


Spellbreaker

by Lannakitty



Series: Defenders of Azeroth [6]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-05-10 11:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 60,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14736120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lannakitty/pseuds/Lannakitty
Summary: Reintegration in Dalaran was not without trial and hardship, but Jaina has seen it through. Now the Kirin Tor is helping to lead the way in the further campaign on the alternate Draenor. Their next target? The orcs of Highmaul. But the Shadow Council may throw a wrench into the works.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for the encouragement and support on the previous story. Here we go for the next!

"Get yer chocolates and yer roses! Step right up folks! You there! You look like you have a sweetheart at home! Strapping young adventurer like yourself! You! You have a sweetie? I knew it! You have a gift for this most important spending holiday? You don't! Well friend, I have got your back.

 

Kalec paused in his morning stroll to take in the sight before him. A small crowd had gathered around a goblin vendor with a few attendants. The goblin stood on a few crates so he could be seen above the gathering crowd. His outfit was a particularly garish pink suit and matching top hat. Most of the things he was selling appeared to also be pink.

"Step right up! Roses and delectable sweets to charm any significant other! Sparkly gems? We got 'em! The fragrances and treats to delight the senses!" The goblin leaned down on his box and grinned conspiratorially. "And for those spicer evenings, Northrend's finest assortment of captivating lingerie!" He winked and one of the gnome girls in the crowd tittered, her cheeks turning bright pink. Standing up, the goblin salesman addressed the crowd. "Buy it for yourself! Buy it for your sweetie! We've got it all!"

The goblins behind him, wearing, inexplicably, a diaper and an enchanted pair of wings, sighed. One threw a small rocket into the air where it burst into the shape of a heart. The other, rolling his eyes, shot the fake arrow from his bow. As the heart-tipped arrow was tethered to the bow, it didn't shoot very far. Not that it had much power behind the pull. The short lived flight was as anemic as the goblin's enthusiasm for peddling the almost uniformly colored wares.

"You! Sir! You look like you have a loved one!"

It took Kalec a moment to realize the goblin salesman was speaking to him. Kalec blinked at the broad, gold-capped smile.

"Handsome lad like yourself, I bet you have to beat 'em off with a stick!" The goblin said, chuckling for some reason. It had to be some sort of idiom Kalec didn't understand. Perhaps the joke didn't translate into common well.

"Er-"

"Archmage Kalec is dating Lady Proudmoore," one of the girls perusing the goblin's wares spoke up. She was one of his students, Margery Crawford.

"Ohh, well then! He certainly should have only the very best gift for the grand magus!" The goblin salesman said, snapping his fingers. 

A third assistant seemed to materialize at his side. This goblin was dressed in an extremely revealing pink dress. She had a box of chocolates in one hand, her arm draped with necklaces and bracelets of obviously varying quality, each with a price tag. In her other arm she had a bouquet of roses and a flimsy kerchief on a hanger.

"After all, the Lady has been so very kind in letting us set up this little popup boutique!" He took the box of chocolates from the assistant who reached back and produced another handful of gem-encrusted jewelry. The goblin wagged his eyebrows at Kalec. "Something for her," he said, the smile a glinting leer.

"And maybe a little somethin' for you," the goblin woman said, winking saucily as she brought the kerchief to drape over her front. The sheer pink fabric concealed nothing.

Which... was perhaps the point since Kalec belatedly realized it wasn't a silk scarf after all.

"Uh-"

"You better have something," Margery said, hands on her hips. Beside her, her friends nodded in extreme, unified, female disapproval.

"My Da' forgot one year," a dwarf girl Kalec didn't know said. "He slept on the couch for weeks. She never lets him forget."

The others nodded in apparent agreement with the punishment.

"It's my dads' anniversary so papa Ben won't ever forget," a boy from his class said. "Light help him if he forgets that."

"So what'll it be? Some pretty gems? Some flowers? Chocolates? All of the above?" The goblin shopkeeper said, sliding into view between Kalec and the teens.

"I think I will have to make appropriate plans," Kalec said, frowning thoughtfully. "Good day." He turned, leaving the sputtering goblin in his wake.

Kalec considered his options. Dead flowers seemed silly on top of an already apparently arbitrary and nonsensical holiday. Since when had this day become a holiday anyway? Shaking his head, Kalec went in the direction of the sweet shop to acquire sweets he knew Jaina liked. Kalec liked them too, but he was apparently supposed to give Jaina something she liked.

Was she supposed to give him something too? Putting the thought aside, Kalec entered the sweetly scented mouth of hell.

Packages flew through the air as they were assembled rapidfire by a pair of mages. Orders were being called out and filled. Gold exchanged hands. Sugar, butter and flour were blended with chocolates. Some were blended with rum or other spirits. The confectioners and bakers in the back of the shop were partaking from their own stock of alcohol as they worked at a fever pitch.

Stunned by the sensory onslaught, Kalec found himself shuffled into a steadily moving but very long line. 

This holiday was madness.

Finally Kalec was at the front. A very harried elf leaned against the counter. "Please tell me you were a pre-order," she said before she looked up.

"Er- No?"

The woman's eyes closed in agony and Kalec was quite concerned before she straightened with a fixed smile and a slightly magic look in her eye. "What would you like? Hopefully we have some in stock or you'll need to return later. Or try another shop. Or perhaps place an order for next year's holiday so it won't be forgotten in the future. How might I help?" The corner of her mouth ticked.

Kalec requested some of Jaina's favorites; Chocolate caramels with sea-salt, chocolate covered cherries and some chocolate covered pretzels. The cherries were backordered so Kalec left with the other two items. They were all placed in an ornate, pink, heart-shaped box before Kalec could ask why. Kalec paid and accepted the box and was quickly shuffled out of line with a loud "NEXT!"

Kalec was practically shoved out into the street by the press of bodies inside. Outside, the line to get into the store was now winding down the street. The people in line looked covetously at his box and Kalec held it a bit closer then hurried off.

Sheer insanity.

As Kalec beat a hasty retreat, he decided that perhaps the treats were best left at home. He made a short detour and stowed his gift in the cold box before snooping around Jaina's workbench.

Dead plants were a silly idea. If the purpose was to give a gift (and why would another gift-giving be required so shortly after Winter Veil?!) then he'd give Jaina something she'd like. She might like flowers? They appeared traditional. Maybe he would give her a living plant? Kalec considered his options then, checking the clock, decided to brave the streets again and acquire one or two things before Jaina returned home.

Then maybe she could give him some context.

Three shops later and it appeared as though every single rose in the entire city had been sacrificed on the altar of this bizarre goblin holiday everyone appeared to celebrate. However Kuhuine, the lovely tauren in charge of the shop now, had suggested that he might have better luck with a nursery in Kalimdor or the Eastern kingdoms - and failing that finding something and digging it up. He left her shop with a small parcel and considered his next move.

Kalec, feeling determined to do this odd holiday right, went to another shop- this one blissfully free of the holiday frenzy- and placed an order to be delivered to his home. Then he left Northrend entirely.

It took three hours to find what he was looking for. Then, because he was in the area, he reinforced the wards around the whelplands in Azsuna and stayed for a quick chat with the dragons there. The whelps were a delight as always and his cargo turned into an impromptu botany lesson before he had to leave again.

Lifting the crate by the door with a quick levitation, Kalec brought it inside. He decided to set the crate down in the workshop and then, after some thought, he conjured a garish pink bow. It looked odd on the rough wood of the crate, but he'd not seen wrapping as in Winter Veil - but there had been plenty of garish pink bows.

Kalec set the little newly potted flower down on the kitchen table by the window then went about making dinner.

* * *

Jaina arrived home after a long day. They'd finally heard back from their intelligence agents with regards to several areas of concern on Draenor. The greatest issue of which was what to do with Highmaul now that it was clear the Iron Horde had sent their emissaries to the Sorcerer-King with the message "Submit or Die". The Ogres hadn't reacted yet but their response would not be long in coming and the combined forces of Azeroth would need to act.

Adding to that mess was the disturbing reports of an increase in demonic activity around Draenor and the sightings of both Cho'gall and Gul'Dan.

She set her staff aside and rolled her shoulders. Slipping out of her shoes she summoned her slippers. She sighed as they went on, plush and divine. The house smelled wonderful.

"I'm home!" she called out, heading for the kitchen. Her love was obviously busy making something. It smelled rich and meaty.

"In here," Kalec called. He met her at the kitchen doorway with a hug and a kiss. Jaina sighed and relaxed against his chest. "Long day?" he asked.

Jaina grunted an answer. "Better now." She squeezed her arms around his waist and nuzzled in against his vest, letting him take her weight. "How was your day?"

"Interesting. I apologize for the hasty nature of my gifting, but I was unaware of the holiday until earlier."

Jaina looked up, confused. Holiday? Kalec was gently taking her elbow and escorting her to the kitchen table. She was seated in her usual chair - and there was a rush of warmth as she realized she had a usual chair and so did he - and a plant was placed before her. 

"Oh..."

It was captivating. Jaina had never seen one before outside of some sketches in books. The crude renderings of charcoal and pencil did not do the plant justice. The stem and the base of the leaves were the deep purple of twilight. The edges faded into a soft off-white color. The center of the flower was the same deep purple but the petals... The petals were each a delicate, translucent, glowing blue. Small sparkles rose from the flower then faded from view, an intricate exchange of magic between the flower and the ambient aether on Azeroth.

"Is- Kalec is that a Starlight rose?" Jaina could hardly believe what she was seeing and it was an effort to tear her eyes away from the plant and look at Kalec.

He nodded, grinning. "I'm supposed to give you roses, but please do not be offended when I say I thought gifting a dead plan seemed... silly? However apparently all the roses in Azeroth have been claimed for bouquets so I couldn't even get you red one. But then I remembered these and I thought you might think it was just as pretty-"

"Kalec, there hasn't been one of these in Dalaran in centuries. The last blooms were cultivated by the Highborne mages in Darnassus and they died." Jaina reached out to touch the flower but stopped herself. "I've never seen one. Antonidas had drawings in his alchemy books."

Kalec sat across from her. "You're kidding."

Jaina shook her head minutely, eyes on the softly glowing flower. She could feel its magic. The color was magnificent and vibrant, the plant apparently fine for having been potted. 

"You're not kidding."

Jaina looked up from the impossibly beautiful flower. "The blue flight cultivates these?"

He shrugged. "We have a few in, uh, well the equivalent would be window gardens? Along with dreamleaf and aetheril and other such plants. We're not natural gardeners like the greens are. But this one I just found. They're not very difficult to find if you know the right sort of spell."

Jaina set both hands on the table. "You- You know where to find these in the wild."

"Jaina, they're all over Suramar. You can find them in some places in Azsuna, too." He tilted his head in question.

Jaina rubbed her hands over her face then parted her fingers so she could watch the gentle shimmer and glow of the plant.

"Is like the leywater and leycrystal?" Kalec asked, sounding nervous.

"This is exactly like the leywater and leycrystal," she said.

Kalec breathed out, relaxing. He smiled. "Well that's alright then. I was afraid I'd botched the holiday."

Jaina shook her head and reached out to take his hand. "Love, what holiday?"

Kalec's eyebrows rose. "The odd goblin one. With the pink. It makes no sense but the whole planet is apparently mad for it."

"The gobli- Oh!"

Kalec smiled. He rose and retrieved a pink, heart-shaped box. "It seemed that chocolates and flowers were key components as well as some gift of some sort? Apparently failure to remember the holiday results in sleeping on the couch and as nice as the new couch is, I much prefer our bed."

Jaina opened the box and was delighted to find some of her favorite sweets. 

Kalec continued to explain as he took his seat again. "I thought you might like those better than the chocolates the goblins were selling. And a live plant. It just needs a little bit of water, a little bit of sun and access to a lot of mana in the aether and it should be fine. I imagine it should do very well in Dalaran. Oh, and I got you that new Aetheric monitor you wanted."

Jaina blinked then grinned. "You what?"

Kalec smiled back. "I thought you'd like it better than some of the other things they were telling me I should get."

Jaina grinned harder. Her cheeks hurt. Laughter bubbled up but she held it down, putting a hand over her mouth. Her beloved was utterly adorable, thoughtful and clearly had no idea what was actually going on, but was gamely trying to please her. His bright smile faltered and she grabbed for his hands, tugging him out of his seat as she rose. She leaned up on her toes and kissed him properly, one arm around his waist the other holding the side of his head.

"I did it right?" he asked once she released him.

A giggle escaped anyway as his expression made her heart do little flying loops. "Love, this is a wonderful surprise and I am very thankful and very touched. I love the gifts. These are the best gifts I've ever gotten for this holiday."

"I hear a 'but' coming," he said, concerned but not so very upset she thought.

Jaina laughed and nodded. She shook her head and sighed. "The goblins commercialized a small holiday that started, oh, I don't even know. In one of the human kingdoms. Some say Arathor even." She held his upper arms and tried to look serious, fighting the impish smile for now. "There's too much snow to go out most days and after Winter Veil there isn't much to do... Except each other." She shrugged a shoulder. "It's a holiday about sex because people were bored and cooped up in their homes. The goblins got ahold of it and, well, sex sells."

Kalec blinked. "This is a courting ritual?"

"No. Well. It can be." She squeezed his arms. "But the point is, it's not a big deal like Winter Veil is. I'd completely forgotten what day it was. And the actual holiday isn't until tomorrow anyway." She leaned up and kissed him. "Thank you. This is a wonderful and thoughtful surprise. You didn't miss something important because I've never really deemed this important." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'm still gonna eat those chocolates."

Kalec chuckled and stroked his fingers through her hair. "I feel a bit embarrassed."

"Don't," she said, squeezing him close. "I should have mentioned something. That's my fault." She looked up at him. "You really got me an Aetheric monitor, too?"

"It's in the lab." A timer chimed and she reluctantly let him go to handle dinner. "We can uncrate it after dinner," Kalec said.

"We can," Jaina said. She waited until he'd removed the roast then backed him up against the counter. "Or we can indulge in some of the other traditional holiday activities."

It took him half a second, but Kalec caught on quickly now he had a better idea of what was going on. "I thought you didn't celebrate this holiday."

She bit her lower lip as she smiled up at him. "You've done a remarkable job of convincing me otherwise."

Kalec looked at the roast then back at Jaina. "Dinner can wait?"

Jaina cast a stasis spell over the roast. "Dinner can wait."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans for Highmaul begin to take shape. Kalecgos visits Draenor for some advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who's followed me to this fic!
> 
> Thank you to Wolfandwild for looking over some stuff I wasn't sure about and letting me wibble.
> 
> Thank you everyone who has left Kudos!  
> Thank you Thesseli, Tanadin, tty6 and Kalla_moonshado for the lovely comments on chapter 1! 
> 
> I owe people comments still for the last fic. As soon as I find some energy I will thank you properly :)

Archmage Modera studied the map before her. Part of her longed to be posted here at Everbloom, to be leading this charge. It made sense for Illsudira to take up the posting, though. She was a damn fine tactician and she was new on the Council. It was important for her to step up as a leader in front of the rest of the Kirin Tor. She was, Modera was pleased to admit, another trained battlemage able to wield the martial might of their organization.

Modera was old and through investment, skill, circumstance and sheer dumb luck she'd lived longer than was typical for a human. She wasn't at the extreme end of a _human mage_ , but she was getting there. As a battlecaster she was impossibly old, but Modera ignored that fact as unimportant. What was important was Illsudira was only twenty-two years older than Modera. Her people considered her to be something of a youngster still. If war didn't take her, Spellsong could expect to see centuries more.

Spellsong hadn't been a combatant in all the conflicts Modera had been in, though. This was training. As much as Modera longed to direct operations, it was important Illsudira learned to be a general. One day Modera would not be around. Getting Spellsong some commands of this size and complexity under her belt was a good investment for the future of the Kirin Tor.

Besides, it meant that Modera might be _deployed_ on the field rather than held back to command. There were _some_ perks in giving up the reins.

The map constructed on the table included spellcrafted miniatures depicting the solitary landmass of Draenor. Everbloom was marked with the Kirin Tor flag. Frostfire and Lunarfall marked with Horde and Alliance. Banners for the orc clans in their home territories were scattered around. Blackrock had its own marker and out on the lone island of Ashran there were two more Horde and Alliance flags.

"If you'll take a seat we can begin," Spellsong said, lifting her voice over the hubub. Assembled were lieutenants from the faction forces, herself, Khadgar and allies from the Frostwolves and Draenei.

"Before we can take out the Iron Horde and Grommash Hellscream we need to take out Blackrock. Before we can take out Blackrock we need to hinder the Highmaul Ogres or take them out if we can. So. Let's talk about our strategies there," Spellsong said, looking around the table.

The group as a whole noded or otherwise indicated assent. Modera listened with half an ear as they finalized details. Most of this was now a formality and for the benefit of the lieutenants. The core planning had been done by herself, Spellsong and the two garrison commanders.

They'd seen ogre mages since the initial invasion of Azeroth, but those had been fairly few in number. The Gorian Empire had entered into an uneasy agreement with the Iron Horde to provide magical might and teaching. No one held any illusions that the ogres wouldn't attack the Iron Horde given the chance to break the agreement. It was equally true that once Grommash felt he had enough magic users trained by ogres, he'd wipe the ogres out. No one present would shed a tear if the gorian empire collapsed entirely. It was cold, tactical math, but that was the situation.

Killing Garrosh had been a big boost to the morale of everyone involved, but it was the first step in a much longer campaign. At least everyone seemed to be playing well with one another. So far.

The attempts on the life of both Vol'jin and Anduin had been shocking. There had been some grumbling but less than Modera had expected. It was a surprise and she wasn't often surprised. Part of her was waiting for deception.

Part of her was wondering if the Horde wasn't as sick of killing people as she was.

The Kirin Tor was leading the way on this assault. They were fighting ogres and while both the Horde and Alliance had fought Malygos and his supporters, they weren't _mages_. Many of the Draenei were, but they weren't in a position to really lead anything right now. The Kirin Tor was.

Jaina had been dead serious about waging peace. Modera thought there was something ironic about a war being used to facilitate her plans. Modera realized they had come to the part of the meeting where she needed to pay attention, and did so.

After the meeting, the factions broke up and went back to their respective bases. She went back by way of Lunarfall and was surprised to see Kalecgos arriving just as she was leaving. The dragon gave her a nod and a strained smile then hurried after Archmage Zaliya, who paused to let the dragon catch up.

Shrugging, Modera went back to Azeroth.

* * *

 

"You don't have to duck this time," Zaliya said as she led the way in to the main building of the garrison.

"I noticed. Last time I was here you were in the process of expanding this building again," Kalec said as he followed along.

"Properly sized doors were a priority for me and anyone else who isn't a gnome or dwarf," Zaliya said.

"How is mage Neseema?" Kalec asked, changing the subject to the mage who worked with Wrathion. She'd been severely injured when Wrathion and his crew had escaped Taylor's garrison. Kalec and Zaliya had gone in to set things right in the area and Wrathion had disappeared to parts unknown, but he'd agreed his mage should stay in the Lunarfall garrison to heal. That had been months ago. "The healers seemed to think it would only be a matter of time before she was on her feet again. I'd not heard anything though."

"Something you said to the whelp must have stuck," Zaliya said as she closed the door behind them. "He'd had her transfer back to Azeroth for care, but I saw her come back over. The necromancy didn't take hold, which I am certain she's happy about. She'll have some impressive scarring on the right hand." The worgen woman shook her head. "But you're not here to speak with me or to follow up on the whelp, are you?"

"If you wouldn't mind, I would like to speak with Tarecgosa," Kalec admitted. "Not that I don't appreciate speaking with you, Archmage. But I do have a family matter to discuss with her."

The worgen grunted assent then ceded control to Tarecgosa. "What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing bad. I've just been giving my relationship with Jaina a lot of thought recently. When I first called her my consort you said to drop you a note if I decided she was my first in lo-"

"KALEC! Oh, I'm so happy for you! My awkward big brother who hardly ever looked away from his spells!" Tarecgosa engulfed him in a sudden hug. "Tell me all the details! Wine! This calls for wine!" She turned and took a step towards the side board before she pause and looked over her shoulder. "Unless she rejected you? She's not here-"

"Tare-" Kalec held up a forestalling hand. "I haven't actually, ah, broached the subject with Jaina."

Tare's hands went to her hips, a gesture she'd no doubt learned from being conjoined with Zaliya. "Kalec, I am most definitely not the person to have this conversation with. Why aren't you in Dalaran talking with Jaina?"

He fidgeted. "Because I wanted to get your opinion first. You're the only close family I have left. I'm... I was thinking about talking with Senegos. He seems to like her well enough. And the Flight isn't what it was and in any case Malygos often didn't have a designated prime to help. Ysera hasn't had one in ages. Alexstrasza has none currently."

"Kalec," Tarecgosa stopped his rambling with a hand on his shoulder. "You're worried about what everyone else will think?"

"A little bit. And a little bit of what Jaina might think. She knows something of what the position entails. Used to entail. Does it even have the same status anymore? I mean, I _was_ the Aspect but we're not an intact flight anymore. I- I don't know."

The table creaked a bit as Tarecgosa sat on the edge, facing Kalec. "Kalec, what's really bothering you? Because it isn't about Jaina."

Kalec grimaced. But then this was probably why he'd come to Tarecgosa. Deep down he'd known she would hold no punches and be a sounding board. "Did I do the right thing, Tare?"

"Regarding?"

"The flight."

"Why are you questioning it now?"

"That isn't an answer."

"Neither is your statement," she said. "Out with it."

Kalec was quiet, trying to get his swirling thoughts in order. It was difficult; there were so many things on his mind. "I think it's because I have come to think of Jaina as my first in love. I have thought of her that way for awhile now. Formalizing that though... It's... It's hard to explain all the thoughts I have."

"Lay it out. Talk through all the pieces. That's what you had me do when I was struggling to solve a spellwork problem. Explain it to me," Tarecgosa ordered in the same voice she'd used on her whelps.

Kalec found himself smiling a little. "I think that's what I really need."

"So get talking. Drink?" She asked as she climbed off the table and went to the small bar.

"No, thank you." Kalec took another moment before he just let everything spill forth as he thought of it. "I love Jaina. We understand one another. We fit. But she also makes me aware of the other responsibilities I have. The ones I had, too, but mostly the ones I still feel.  We will not be around forever. We need to train the younger races and teach them what we know. We need to become better friends. But at the same time the flight is dispersed. I wonder if I gave up any authority to direct anyone into doing that necessary teaching. And at the time, it felt right, Tare. In so many ways it _still does_. We were so insular for so long. We'd lost our joy. Getting out there, seeing what's being done, learning about the current state of Azeroth, that has to be good for us."

Tarecgosa poured herself some brandy and leaned a hip against the bar top. She sipped silently, waiting for Kalec to continue.

"I have broken many traditions, rules and edicts placed by Malygos. I _hated_ many of his decisions. And I still wonder if I broke some of them because of my personal opinion rather than because it was what was best. He was the eldest of us. One of-" Kalec broke off what he'd been about to say. Malygos had been one of the first five dragons _ever_ , not just one of the eldest living.

"I was not a good leader, Tare. I did what needed to be done but... Having lived and interacted with truly good leaders like Varian and Jaina and Queen Moira and even young Anduin and so many others, I wonder if I failed our people. If I let my personal desire to be with Jaina and to not be confined to the Nexus overrule what was best for us. We were- are a stagnant people. All dragons. But the blues most of all the flights. I hated what we'd become. Magic is of order but it isn't supposed to be so... still. So cloistered and hoarded and monitored until it cannot breathe. I hated how so many seemed to be content with the state of things. And when I was Aspect I... I tried to hold things in the middle. I wanted to see us spread across Azeroth as we once, as the reds are, but we couldn't do it all at once and we couldn't while Deathwing lived. I tried to gently guide us towards that end. And Deathwing died and dragons began to leave and disperse... But not because they were going to reach outwards. The were _leaving. Escaping. Fleeing_... I wanted to go most of all, but I had to stay."

Kalec closed his eyes, thinking back on the jealousy and sadness in his heart. His flight had been disintegrating around him because he wasn't strong enough to keep them there, to make them or inspire them to stay. And then he'd given in and had smashed the whole thing.

"I wanted to leave, Tare," Kalec admitted for the first time. "I've always had some of the same wanderlust mother had. The Nexus was confining. And then it became a tomb. But it was _ours_ . Our history. Our knowledge. Our power. It was _mine_ in a way I'd never felt in the entirety of my life. And I couldn't just leave it." He drew in a deep breath and let it out. "And then after everything... I'd wanted them to go out into the world. They were doing that. So I dismissed the last of them."

"It was a relief. The...  hold of the Nexus lessened afterwards. The Kin still maintain things and Dalaran is close enough I can keep the maintenance myself. It still felt like I was indulging something forbidden. Something selfish. Now, I wonder if by naming Jaina as my Prime if I am being selfish again, if I am breaking us too much, if I am hastening our death. There will be dragons who won't agree with me. I released them from the flight. They might never return and all their knowledge lost, all their potential just," he waved a hand. "Gone."

"Heavy thoughts," Tarecgosa agreed. She pulled out the long table bench with a foot and sat across from Kalec.

"My opinion is biased," Tare said. She sipped the brandy. "The way I see it, you have done what you could for us, the best you could for us, given the knowledge you had. You still care for us. You released us but I don't know you released yourself, not truly."

Kalec knew his smile was wan. "I can't," he admitted. "I still feel you all; more muted and the connections aren't deep or as vibrant as they were before, but I still feel the connections. I can still feel the _weight_ of the Nexus, but Azsuna _draws_ me now because that is where my people are." He closed his eyes against the heartache. "But Jaina isn't one of us. I don't feel her like I do all of you." He'd not known he'd felt some hope of that until she'd made the change and the connection hadn't suddenly appeared like that single, glorious summer he'd been Aspect. How had Malygos remained so inert and listless when that happened every year?

Kalec opened his eyes and beheld the being before him. He could sense Archmage Zaliya's aura and beyond her was that of Tarecgosa. "Even as you are now I have some sense. There are some thinner threads between Jaina and I but it isn't the same."

"It hurts that much?"

He grimaced. "It does. But no amount of wishing will change that anymore than it can change anything else going on with us."

"Are you doing this to forge a social connection since she's not a dragon? To take what you can get?"

"No," Kalec shook his head. "I love her above all others. No, it's because it's something I want."

"You don't ask for much, Kalec. That alone means I think you should just do it and forget anyone who doesn't like it." She sipped the drink again. "There are a lot of threads here. It's a fine tangled web you've made, brother." She held out the drink.

Kalec took the brandy and sipped before handing it back. "I love her. I want to shout for all the world to hear."

"Why don't you just do it?"

Kalec scowled. "I just listed off a number of reasons. Chief among them being we've had to  change a lot and very quickly. I don't want to break us."

"But we're already disbanded. And for our own good. Let me ask you this, would anyone who disagreed with you so much they would cut off all contact ever actually come to Dalaran? Would they teach younger mages?"

"Probably not."

"Then you've lost nothing. You've gained happiness with your chosen consort. You continue to live with her and learn and teach."

"I suppose," Kalec allowed.

"Are you afraid she won't accept you?"

And again Tarecgosa's words struck true. Kalec ducked his head. Jaina knew the position had some political attachments. She knew it was very often a functional role. He wasn't Aspect anymore, but there had never not been Aspects and so dragonkind carried on as they had since their creation. Though it occurred to him that Jaina knew more about the true history of the dragonflights than most other dragons. But she also knew what Kalec had shared of their customs. Including that dragons did not have strict monogamy, but when one courted a pair who were Prime to one another, they courted both. Kalec considered it unlikely either of them would be approached but would she reject him on the basis that it could happen and it wasn't something she was willing to deal with? There was also the question of their difference in race. They were committed to one another but this was a new level.

"You're being silly, Kalec," Tare said, breaking into his thoughts. She tilted her head, listening then refocused on Kalec. "Zaliya says you should ask her over a nice quiet dinner at home. She doesn't think a loud, showy declaration in front of a hundred witnesses would be good in this case."

"Jaina doesn't like being the center of attention," Kalec said. "I would never surprise her like that!"

Tare listened again. "Zaliya says you'll do just fine, then. As for what I think - if you really want my opinion?"

"Yes. Please."

"Anyone who already doesn't like you mating with a human isn't going to change. And I don't think anyone who supports you will be surprise or change their opinion. Those are the dragons you will need to help you teach in the future. They already like Jaina. They'll probably be relieved to have a proper way to relate to her."

"Something normal when just about everything else about me and what I do is unusual?" Kalec asked, a little bit of bitterness sneaking into his voice. The feeling was as genuine as it was surprising. It wasn't often he so keely felt like an outsider. Kalec was old friends with the sensation; usually be felt resigned.

Tarecgosa smacked his shoulder. "We needed _you_ . Not some other dragon. _You_ , Kalec. They voted for you because deep down they knew we needed _you_ , oddness, upheaval and all. Maybe we _especially_ needed _you_ because of what was to come. Magic is strange like that, Kalec"

"That would be awfully convenient," Kalec said. He didn't like the idea of being some sort of harbinger of doom, but it did get him thinking about the Aspects, their relations to their flights and the connection between them. Kalec had wished for his people to go into the world... and they had. In droves. Had it been just the Sorrow or... had it been him? Malygos had kept them home but did they how fly free because of him?

Tare shrugged, unaware of Kalec's thoughts. "Love her. Maybe it will rub off on the rest of them and they'll be better able to teach the younger races. Or maybe it's not fate at all and you should do whatever you want because you're a dragon and that is your right, hm?" She lifted her snout into the air and sniffed.

Kalec chuckled a little. "Thank you."

"Anytime."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look in Draenor and then a quiet romantic evening on Theramore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Wolfandwild who helped me with some transitional bits!
> 
> Thank you Thesseli, Jainafan08, MSG1000, illidaddy1008 and tty6 for leaving me comments last chapter! Thank you all so much for your support!
> 
> Note: This story is touching back on Earthwarder which is well behind, but I wanted to move ahead with this fic since I was far more excited to write it than I was to catch up with Wrathion. I've been getting back to him in bits and pieces. :)

Draenor was hot and muggy. Again. Wrathion assumed his natural form and spread his wings, lazily flapping to get some air circulating along his scales. He felt pity for the others in his party for they had no such means of relief. Grey, his Worgen tracker, looked especially haggard in the heat, yet he refused to assume his human form for personal reasons.

Their warlock kill count had been increased by one and so they needed to move camp. Around him the gear they'd collected was stowed and tied down onto mounts or into packs. The tents and awnings had already be struck. His forward team had located a good position for their next encampment. From there, he would be able to continue to oversee his operations against the Legion incursion in Draenor as well as instigate the further deaths of members of the Shadow Council.

Wrathion snorted and a twin curls of smoke rose from his snout. The Legion was here on this world in this reality. While he didn't particularly care about  _ Draenor _ , he did care if they managed to gain strength from this accursed planet. The biggest target for the Legion was the Iron Horde and that was  _ his  _ resource. An army he'd allowed the creation of  _ specifically  _ to fight the  _ Legion _ , so he'd be damned if they got their claws into it.

Since his arrival in Draenor, he'd been fighting the Shadow Council. He couldn't stop the Horde and Alliance from throwing themselves against the Iron Horde so he let them do it, hoping they would be beaten back or come to their senses. While they did that he would slaughter every warlock and demonic practitioner he came across.

Garrosh Hellscream was dead, which was just as well since Wrathion wished to see him dead. He'd been brought into this scheme by Kairozdormu when his own plans had been shattered by the Alliance's failure to subjugate the Horde. Kairoz had promised Wrathion something no one else could; Time.

The whelp looked down at the elaborately crafted device on the leather cord around his neck, touching it with a claw. Supposedly it would allow him to restore his flight, a token offered as half-payment for Wrathion's assistance in freeing Garrosh.

Garrosh had killed the bronze. While Wrathion was glad Garrosh was no more the other half of Kairoz's bill was still unpaid. Wrathion had kept the device. If one bronze could be convinced to help, then perhaps another could be as well. First, he needed to fight for the soul of the Iron Horde.

He looked over at the locked chest where his bounty lay. The grimoires of Shadow Council warlocks. He'd killed two personally. His Talons had gone forth and killed a few mid-to-high ranking lieutenants . he'd enabled the Horde and Alliance to kill one of Gul'dan's top lieutenants and also stole from the Legion the souls in Auchindoun. Wrathion had helped to eradicate a few Shadow Council encampments. Gul'dan knew his name... and hated him.

Wrathion rustled his wings. No doubt the warlock was coming to  _ fear him  _ as well. Even so, he and his people continued to move. As they hunted the Shadow Council, they too were being hunted.

"Almost ready to go," Right said as she trotted up. "We've got the mounts ready for you, your majesty. Fizzbang said this is an excellent site and the hunters are pleased with the game in the area."

Wrathion nodded and flew alongside her as they walked to the mounts. Master Fizzbang had proved to be a remarkable source of intelligence for Wrathion's operations. The gnome, despite his cheerful mein, was a skilled rogue. He was not as good as Wrathion's Right hand guard nor was he as skilled as Teraka of the Horde, but he was young and one day he might meet the heights of the others. Already he was proving himself here on Draenor.

Wrathion perched on the saddle ahead of Right and looked around with satisfaction. "Let's go," he ordered. There was a new camp to set up and another warlock to kill.

* * *

Kalec left Draenor, appearing in the skies over Azsuna. He wanted to check on his people there and speak with Senegos. Having the elder dragon's support wasn't necessary but Kalec found he wanted it for peace of mind for himself. There was the small worry that this would be a step too far, but that idea was less loud than it had been before he'd spoken with Tarecgosa.

The patrolling drakes called greetings as he entered their air, which Kalec returned. He spiraled down lazily, taking his time. Flying was wonderful, he didn't want to alarm anyone with a sudden appearance and, to be honest, it gave him a little bit more time to collect his thoughts.

Azsuna felt warm and homey under his paws when he landed. The leylines here were healthy flows and the grove smelled like dragons. He could hear the others conversing and feel their magic. It was different from the Nexus and while that place of power still called to him, this place felt quite comfy.

He found Senegos, explained what he planned to do, then sat quietly head high, paws firmly on the ground. If his wings were a bit extended in anxiety, well, it made him look larger and more impressive. Maybe.

Senegos tilted his head to the side and regarded Kalec for a long moment, the deep wrinkles in his weathered skin deepening more around his eyes. "Kalec, my boy, why are you telling me this?" The elder dragon said.

Some of the bravado and tension left Kalec and his wings sagged a bit. Senegos hadn't addressed him as such in years; not since before he'd become the Aspect of Magic. "Well..." It had made perfect sense just moments ago. Under an old teacher's gaze the information seemed to evaporate like morning mist.

Why was this so hard? All he wanted to do was be with the mate he loved above all others. Kalec snorted out a huff, suddenly chilled water vapor shimmering in the blast before the relatively temperate climate of Azsuna melted the shimmer.

"I love Jaina. More than anyone else."

"So you have said and shown," Senegos said. He shifted his great, aged bulk to the side, joints creaking audibly. He sighed as he found another comfy spot. "Unless something has changed radically since the last time I had a mate, that is a matter between the dragons in question. Beings in this case." Senegos offered him a droll look. "You're a handsome lad, but you're not my type and I am a bit too old for either of you, I think."

Kalec huffed out another breath, this one part laugh. "No, I mean-" He cut himself off and sighed. "You're the oldest of us left. I have a great deal of respect for you, Elder. My heart calls me to act and I will, but it is unusual, to say the least, for a dragon to take a non-dragon as a mate. It might be upsetting to some. I know it will be upsetting to some."

"But you will do so anyway."

"Yes."

Senegos smiled and nodded, eyes closing as if pleased. "Good. That is the way it should be." The elder dragons eyes opened once more and Kalec could feel both the crushing weight of the other dragon's years, but to his surprise there was approval and support. "Did you come to give warning, or perhaps seek blessing?"

"Yes?" Kalec sighed and slid down to his belly, tucking his paws under him. "I... have not been the most orthodox dragon."

"HA! And we are all the better off for it, I think," Senegos said. "My proxy cast for you, remember," Senegos reminded him. "We have seen upheaval and strife, but so have all the flights. Officially you have disbanded the flight but here you are, week after week, coming to teach and protect. You do the same in Dalaran. Your human mate is maturing in her understanding of magic as we know it as do others I would imagine. The whelps from the younger races you teach in Dalaran have you as guide and example. They will remember that and teach it to their children if those same children to not also come to you directly for guidance." Senegos's voice became soft and solemn. 

"You uphold our Charge in your teaching, Kalecgos. One day the dragons here and abroad may assist you, but for now they are healing. Mourning. You are still our future Spellweaver. Dragons may end but you are laying the foundation for our heirs. Taking as a mate the leader of the closest equivalent to our flight solidifies the bond that must be forged between us."

"Yes, but I love her," Kalec protested.

Senegos rose, creaking to his feet. "You love  _ magic _ ," he corrected with a gentle chuckle and nudge of Kalec's head with his snout. "And for you, she is the  _ embodiment  _ of it. Which is as it should be between a blue dragon and his Prime consort. If you wished to warn me, then it is appreciated but unnecessary. I doubt I have ever been  _ less  _ surprised by something in my long life."

Kalec chuckled and ducked his head, the insides of his ears flushing a bit. 

Senegos continued, "If it is a blessing you wish, Spellweaver, you most heartily have mine. But I will reiterate this is not something you should be talking over with  _ me _ , eh?" He walked away, swatting Kalec's shoulder with the club of his tail as he passed by. "Stop  _ procrastinating _ . Get going. Off with you. I am going to have a nice soak."

Kalec chuckled. "Yessir."

He said his goodbyes to the others quickly, then left Azsuna, resolution giving his flight speed. He acquired things for a dinner of favorites they both shared then, after a moment of thought, took the lot to Theramore. The kitchen there wasn't fully stocked yet but it was a small matter to move himself and everything he needed to the new cabin.

Kalec started the fire in the hearth. Winter was retreating but it was not yet finished. The last defiant snows had left the ground with a thin layer of white which was deeper in the shadows. With the ovens heating and the hearth burning the greatroom was soon pleasant. Kalec finished the prep on the roast and set it to cook then turned his attention to the room. Kalec judged the dining room table with its top made from a single, broad plank of wood would suffice. A spell cleaned the table and a second polished the rich, sealed wood. Kalec moved their chairs closer to the fire then thought better of it and moved them away. In the space instead he conjured pillows and blankets from Dalaran in a cozy seating area, far better for cuddling than the individual reading chairs. They would need to get a couch eventually, both so they could entertain guests as well as sit together.

Moving into the bedroom, Kalec lit the fire in the hearth there to warm the air. More spells summoned freshly laundered sheets from their closet in Dalaran and further blankets heaped onto the bed made it look inviting. Then he took out the box he'd acquired from the herbalist in Dalaran and dumped the contents onto the center of the bed. He wasn't certain  _ why  _ rose petals on a bed were a thing, but they apparently were for humans. They smelled nice enough, he supposed. Done this far ahead maybe that was the purpose - to add some fragrance to the air and the bedding. Shrugging, Kalec looked around the bedroom. The same books that mentioned rose petals on the bedding also mentioned romantic candles in the bedroom. It was far too early to light candles, they'd just burn down before dinner was over, but he wasn't sure he needed them. The fire in the hearth gave off a soft, warm glow as well as heat.

Kalec then returned his attention to the kitchen, setting more components to cook before journeying to Dalaran and acquiring some of Jaina's (and his) favorite desserts. Those went into the ice box back in Theramore. He tended to the fires, fluffed a few pillows in front of the greathroom hearth and contemplated adding more candles before deciding what he had was sufficient with the fires going.

And then, all of a sudden, Kalec found he had nothing else to do. He tapped his fingers against the kitchen counter for a moment, then checked and rechecked the food but there was little for him to do at the moment other than let it cook. Finally he ventured into the chilly air, transformed and took flight.

The wind and sea breeze did much to help him calm down, clear his head and finalize his plan of action. Landing on the shore, he changed shape again then returned to Dalaran. There was, it turned out, a few more tasks he needed to do.

* * *

It was a long meeting and while it was far from the least pleasant one she'd had to endure as leader of the Kirin Tor, it was boring. Necessary, but long and boring. 

Waste management wasn't often a concern for the city. They could summon water into the city cisterns and there was a rotation of apprentices and lower level mages who did this civic duty.

Waste exiting the city was a more complicated matter. There were still functional sewers beneath Dalaran. Indeed, she's been surprised to learn of some of the... tenants down there as Modera had called them. People a much younger Jaina hadn't known existed. The waste flowed out as it had when the city had been terrestrial but was whisked away to a collection cistern before it could ooze out of the bottom of Dalaran and fall to the ground like a foul rain. The cistern was emptied by portal into dumping grounds on a regular basis.

Or would continue to do so for the next few months then have to find another solution if this meeting didn't pan out. Dalaran used to dump into the ocean but the Cenarion Circle had submitted a strongly worded letter of protest claiming that the city was polluting the seas. The collected muck and refuse, the druids said, was adversely affecting the ocean ecosystem.

After much deliberation, the Council at the time had decided to seek other options. One of those options had been to engage with a Goblin waste management company. That had not been the option taken. If it had been, Jaina probably wouldn't have been so bored now.

As it was, they rented out the land belonging to an elderly farmer who owned a great many acres in Westfall. The garbage was sorted out and buried in one pile. Wastewater and other solids were buried in another. Since the agreement, the farm had benefited greatly from the composted waste - some minor magical mishaps and unusual-acting crops aside. But the man had died of old age shortly after they'd signed their last contract.

This time when their lease came up, the son and sole heir of the farmer had made amendments, price increases and demands. And so Jaina was seated at the table as both sides argued. Again. This was the third meeting in as many weeks, each one more interminable than the last.

Jaina was ready to start dumping into the ocean again. Maybe right into the heart of the Maelstrom.

When the meeting was mercifully called to and end, the situation wasn't resolved but Jaina was done wasting her time on a subject that, while important, did not merit her full attention for another three hours. That is what she paid Lady Greyhawk for anyway - to uphold Dalaran in legal matters.

Jaina returned to her office and contemplated just going home. She looked up when Kalec appeared at her door. She smiled, sighing as she felt better. 

"I'm stealing you away," Kalec said by way of greeting.

"I'm being kidnapped?" Jaina asked, arching a brow.

Kalec grinned. "You are, my lady. If you'll come with me?"

"What if I resist?" Jaina asked as she rose and crossed to meet him at the door.

Kalec grinned as he slipped an arm around her waist. "Well, I'm hoping you won't. Someone might get hurt."

"I think it prudent to warn you I might be missed at home," Jaina said. "My mate might take offense to me being kidnapped."

Kalec chuckled as he leaned down to kiss her. "He thinks you should take the night off."

"He does, does he?"

"Mmhm. I told Modera I'm stealing you away tonight." He tucked some of her hair behind her ear and Jaina leaned into the caress. "That okay?"

"It is far more than okay," Jaina said with a small whine as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I have been in the longest most boring meeting ever and I just want to go home and sit with you."

Kalec's fingers slipped through her hair as he crooned sympathetically. "I made some plans for us tonight if that's okay?"

Jaina looked up. "Plans?"

He nodded. "Nothing elaborate. Quiet. Just us."

Jaina smiled. "Okay." She closed her eyes and thought of sitting with Kalec on their couch in the library. She had an entertaining novel she might be able to finish.

Kalec stepped away from her drawing her from her thoughts. He conjured his travel cloak. Warm and deep blue so dark it was almost black, it swallowed Jaina up like a great hug when she wore it. Jaina waited in silent curiosity as Kalec drew it around her shoulders and fastened it, drawing the hood up to cover her hair. Smiling he extended his hand.

"Shall we take a walk?"

Her heart seemed to lurch and swell in her chest. Jaina put her hand into his, large and warm but so gentle. "I would love that," she said.

Kalec drew her close. She felt the rising magic of a teleportation spell and hung on as Kalec took them elsewhere.

They were on a beach, her shoes sinking slightly into the chilled sand, the cold wind carried a briny scent and the sound of soft waves. Deep down she could feel the tug and pull of Leylines as they rose towards the surface. Jaina knew immediately they were on Theramore.

Kalec let her get her bearings, his hand still holding hers. She was surprised, but pleased to be here. She squeezed Kalec's hand then followed as he drew her alongside him. 

The pair strolled down the beach in companionable silence for a time. A walk on the beach! Hopefully they would not be interrupted this time, she thought with some wry amusement. The first time they had walked along here, he'd shown her a first glimpse into his world but everything had been interrupted. There had been more moments on the beach in the aftermath of Theramore, some of which still filled her with the ache of loss. Their first kiss had been on the shore as well. On Thunder Isle they'd quarreled on the beach during a walk when the trial had been ongoing. 

And then she'd died.

Jaina stepped close, her other hand pulling the cloak closer. He'd worn the cloak when he'd first arrived on her doorstep in Theramore. She recalled he'd startled her and she'd dropped her cup. Kalec had fixed it with an effortless display of power and consideration both, a living example of how Jaina thought the best mages should be. It was no wonder to her that he had been chosen to be Malygos's successor.

"You okay?" Kalec asked, drawing her from her wide-ranging thoughts. His tenor always had a slightly rumbling quality to it when he was concerned for her. It had been a bit intimidating at first, and, if she was being honest, thrilling. She found it soothing now. His arm came around her shoulders as the pair stopped on the sand.

Jaina looked up at him, her vision watery. This great and powerful being was always so sweetly concerned for her wellbeing and never had she been held in such utter respect. She did not have the words to fully express how grateful she was for his kindness and consideration. 

Jaina silenced Kalec before he could speak more, with a few fingers on his lips.They had both been through so much in the last few years, both lost in the upheaval. And in the wake of devastation they'd found one another. She felt an exquisite tightness in her chest, some pain of loss but so much more of it joy and relief and gratitude. When she could speak she said, "I'm okay. Just... reflecting."

She removed her fingertips and used that hand to conjured the complex, ever-shifting ball of magic he'd first shown her on a beach on Theramore a lifetime ago. Kalec's concerned look turned understanding. He'd shared that bit of himself with her, inviting her into a blue dragon's understanding of magic. She'd been fascinated. More than once in the last year she'd daydreamed about what might have been. If her city had never been slain, if she'd remained soft and golden. She'd have invited him to visit then to stay. 

But that was not her world and in this harder reality she was happy to have him still.

Jaina dismissed the magical construct as he drew her closer. She lifted up on her toes as he bent down, gentle hands cupping her face. Kalec kissed her with intensity that set her heart aflame and filled her with warmth. Unlike the first time they'd kissed, he knew her intimately now. The thought sent a thrill racing down her back to shiver at the base of her spine and set her aching for him. Hers was a scholarly dragon and he'd made a study of her reactions. Jaina hoped she was half as good as returning the favor, but when he stole her senses like this it was very hard to think of anything beyond the hard planes of his chest, the wild, high-wind scent of him, the feel of his silky hair and the constant, faint tingle of his aura.

"I love you," she said when they parted to breath. She pulled him close, clinging desperately to him, fingers digging into the soft suede of his vest. Kalec made a soft sound of surprise before her embrace was returned in equal measure, his arms holding her firmly. Jaina was surrounded by his scent and his feel and his love; she was safe and secure but also felt as if the ghosts of the past and the echoes of her own mistakes hovered around them, waiting for her to leave the shelter of his arms. It was a silly thought, a childish fear, but Jaina still tucked herself against him.

"Jaina?"

"I'm having some very intense feelings, love," she admitted. Healer Yu'len would want her to reach out and not keep the fear inside, she was sure. "Sometimes I feel as if my happiness cannot last. I expect it might end suddenly. I anticipate it." She forced the hands clutching him to ease. "But when I'm with you, when I think of you, it's easier to deny those thoughts."

Kalec crooned and stroked her hair. After a few moments Jaina began to relax in his arms. The gentle play of his fingers through her hair and over her scalp was so very soothing. It was another change that had come with the ability to shift her shape into that of a dragon. Dragon scales were not uniform structures of hard, unfeeling plate. They groomed and replaced them, younger dragons at a much faster rate than the adults. Wings especially always needed to be oiled and maintained to work best in flight, the webbing kept strong but flexible. Jaina had watched the parents care for the whelps in ways which weren't entirely preening or grooming as a cat would, but something unique to dragons. She'd noticed Kalec had always tried to settle her with the same sorts of caresses and while it had worked well before, it worked much better now. Perhaps it was because she understood better. Jaina smiled at her own musing and nuzzled against his chest.

"I'm okay. I love you. Every day I am thankful for you." She squeezed her arms around him, broad and solid, hugging him tightly. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing enough to thank you."

"All I wish from you is to be near you and to share your joys  _ and  _ sorrows with you," Kalec said, his voice gentle and soft. He pressed a kiss to her upturned lips. A small chime sounded near his ear as a timing spell went off, loud enough she could hear it as well. "Shall we go in to dinner?" he asked.

Jaina stepped away, hands lifted to cast. "We should go before it burns," she said.

Kalec took her hands and drew her further along the beach, angling inland. "We have time. That was just the first alarm."

"First alam?" she asked, allowing herself to be tugged in the direction she knew their new cabin to be in. A dinner here? The idea sounded marvelous.

"Mmmhm," he said, eyes twinkling as he linked his arm around hers. "I knew from prior experience I can be quite distracted by kissing you."

"You expected to be kissing me on the beach?" she asked, amused.

"I'd rather hoped for it," he said, heated in his sincerity, setting Jaina's heart fluttering again.

"Oh," she said, the word a soft exhallation. He smiled at her again, tugging on her hand as they left the beach and began down the path which would take them under great pine boughs and up the slight hill to their cabin.

The lights were on ahead of them as night fell and the sky darkened. Dusk always came swiftly by the shore and by the time they'd arrived at the porch it was full dark. Chilly wind blew in off the ocean carrying the faint promise of late season snow. The frozen grass and light dusting of snow under their feet crunched with every step. When Jaina entered into the cabin she was wrapped in warmth and comfort that made her sigh. Delicious smells accompanied the scent of the wood-burning fire.

Kalec took his cloak from her and pressed a kiss to her temple before he hung the garment by the door and made a beeline for the kitchen. Seconds later she could hear pots and pans banging around as he threw himself into his work. Jaina summoned her slippers from home, traded her now sandy and snow-damp shoes for those, then followed Kalec.

The table had been set with two places and he'd included candles. The house had been heated and obviously he'd started dinner hours ago - this was something which had preoccupied Kalec most of the day it seemed.

"Special occasion?" Jaina asked, looking from the candles to Kalec who was pulling a heavenly smelling roast from the oven. Jaina's mouth watered as the meat glistened in the low light, hot enough it steamed even in the warmth of the cabin. 

Kalec grinned at her. "When I visited Draenor, I was advised to treat you to a romantic evening," he said.

"I like Tarecgosa," Jaina murmured. She leaned against the counter that separated the kitchen proper from the greatroom. He'd gone from Draenor right into a full day of cooking by the smell of things. What had prompted that?

Kalec smiled as he attended to preparing the rest of the meal. "She likes you too." He didn't say anything more but instead threw himself into dinner. It was all a little over the top and while Kalec loved to cook, she had learned he tended to do so spontaneously when he was either trying to fill time or when he was worried about something. It all made Jaina mildly concerned if there were troubles he was working through. Had there been bad news about Tarecgosa? If something had happened to the Garrison, Jaina would have heard.

He'd given so much time and consideration to her troubles, Jaina could do no less. She  _ would  _ do no less! They had promised one another they would help the other. Whatever Kalec was trying to process, she would be there for him. She appreciated the quiet dinner and romantic setting, but if he was trying to distract himself then perhaps some gentle questioning would get him to unburden himself.

She sat down at the table as Kalec served her a plate of perfectly roasted beef with a dark sauce, garlic beans and roasted potatoes. It wasn't exotic by any means but it smelled amazing. There was a dark red wine to accompany it.

"I have dessert as well," Kalec said as he sat across from her.

"This all looks wonderful," Jaina complimented, digging in. Kalec smiled, pleased, and waited for her to take the first few bites. It was as heavenly as promised. Only after she had started did Kalec eat. He did that sometimes and she wasn't certain if it was a dragon thing or if he was just waiting to see if he had her approval.

"You went to a lot of work on this," she said, looking up at him across the table.

"I wanted to make something you liked," he said. He was demolishing the contents of his plate at a rapid and efficient pace, and Jaina judged he was preoccupied with something.

"You made everything I liked," Jaina told him. She sipped the wine and blinked, recognizing it for what it was. It was good. It was also expensive. Infused with leywater, it was supposedly made in the ancient style of the elves before the Sundering. Very few vinyards kept the practice over the ages and most of those had been destroyed by the scourge. The few that remained had been barred by the ban on Horde-allied races in Dalaran. Now, almost two months after they had been allowed to return to Dalaran, the supply was still scarce.

"Kalec, this wine," Jaina trailed off.

"It's not too bad," Kalec said. "I confess I haven't had anything like this in awhile. But the vinyard was one I remembered. They're still as good as they were a hundred years ago," he said conversationally. "I liked the more bubbly variant, but they didn't have any on hand in Dalaran but I didn't think I had time to make the run to Silvermoon."

Jaina set her goblet down slowly so it wouldn't slosh. The deep ruby liquid had the faintest glow. It tingled all the way down and left her feeling warm and sleepy but oddly energized as the potent alcohol and mana vied for dominance. The contrast was a heady mix. If she was not careful she could get very drunk on this wine, very quickly.

"It's okay?" Kalec asked, concerned.

"It's amazing. And potent," she said, smiling apologetically and she turned serious. "And expensive."

"I wanted to make something nice," he said. He was a little but fidgetly now, shifting in his seat.

"So you've said." Jaina reached out and touched his hand, stilling the tapping fingers. "Kalec are you okay? Is everything okay with Tarecgosa? In Azsuna?" He blinked at her and she explained herself. "This is wonderful. I love everything you've done for me tonight, but I can't help but wonder why." She curled her fingers around his hand. "You can share with me if something is wrong. Let me help."

He turned his hand over in hers, a gentle smile gracing his lips and... was that a trace of sadness? Alert with warning, Jaina tried to understand what was going on in his mind.

He squeezed her hand. "Nothing is wrong with Tare or in Azsuna. I was there today actually. They're doing well. This isn't about them."

"What's going on though?" Something  _ was  _ going on. He was being evasive.

Kalec's brow furrowed as he studied her. "I- Well..." He huffed out a laugh. "I had it all perfectly in my head earlier today and now the words won't come. There are some things I need to say. To you."

Jaina was suddenly gripped by sheer terror. A shard of ice slipped into her heart as the notion that he might be ending their relationship crossed her mind. 

Another thought countered it - There was nothing to support Kalec ending things. He was having trouble dealing with something, just as she had thought earlier. She would be here for him no matter what.

_ But _ , the insidious voice reminded her,  _ Arthas hadn't given her any warning before he had broken things off suddenly _ . Was he being so kind so he might let her down gently? Or at least more gracefully than Arthas had?

"Jaina?" Kalec looked fearful now, but she hardly noticed in her growing sense of dread. "Jaina what's wrong?" he asked, rising from his seat to come to her side of the table and kneel before her. Jaina barely registered the words. She was clutching his hand, she realized, and she could not make herself let go.

Icy fingers dug into her heart, squeezing it. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. Why did life give her brief glimpses of happiness only to rip them away? What had she done? Had she not been enough for him? Too human? He'd casually spoken about tasting wine from an elven vinyard a century ago and Jaina was but a brief spot in the dragon's long life. She was old and getting older. Perhaps he was trying to spare himself the pain?

"Jaina, beloved, what did I say?" Kalec plead.

"Don't leave me," she said, piteously, small and weak and begging. Jaina had believed she'd loved him enough to let him go, but her traitorous heart rebelled. 

"No, no, no, no," Kalec said, taking a seat on the long bench and pulling her close. "Oh, Jaina, no. I'm not leaving you. I love you. More than anyone else. You are my first in love. The center of my heart. Beloved, no, I am not leaving you."

Jaina had a moment of frightened disbelief before his tight hug chased the dread away. Relief washed over her, adrenaline leaving her shaking and tearful even as her fears proved unfounded. She clung to him and he held her just as tightly as he rubbed her back. She ended up in his lap, her head tucked under his chin, wrapped in his arms. Shame and embarrassment began to replace the feeling of terror and loss.

"Norgannon's balls I've made a mess of this," Kalec muttered, as he rubbed her upper arm, but he was wrong. She was the broken one. He nuzzled the top of her head. "I'm so sorry to have frightened you. I just wanted to make tonight special."

"Why?" she asked, looking up at him. It wasn't her birthday. Or his. Or any day of note she could recall. He was trying to be sweet and she was such a wreck of a being she couldn't help but see the knives in the dark. Hadn't she just told herself she was so well recovered she could reach back to him? Jaina felt slightly ill.

Kalec gently rested his forehead against hers. "My lady, you are the center of my heart," he told her. It registered he'd said the same thing moments before, pushing back some of the queasy feelings. "The person I love most. If you are amenable I would name you my Prime Consort, Jaina."

Jaina's heart stopped again, her breath catching, but this time it was not fear that held her but surprise, followed with a bubbly effervescent giddiness. There was a small chaser of fear after that, because there  _ was  _ the yawning enormity of the offer behind his words. All Jaina's fears began to pale beside the joy of her understanding.

Dragons could have formal relationships of varying types of intimacy with many different individuals. It was a system which worked well for a society where everyone could expect to live tens of thousands of years. But to be the Prime Consort was to be of singular importance to a given dragon. You only had one at a time if you had one at all. Among the flight leaders, the prime was also very often a high level functional leader as well. The last surviving Prime Consort of a flight leader was Soridormi and it was widely joked that  _ she  _ actually ran the bronze flight while Nozdormu was consumed by his duties, even now in the world after the Hour of Twilight.

Jaina looked at the table with the fine meal and the expensive wine. He'd taken her to the beach, echoing how they had first truly connected. He'd been advised to treat her to a romantic night because he must have told Tarecgosa. Zaliya most likely had chimed in to offer a human perspective and suggest the romantic evening. Far from wanting to leave her, Kalec wished to  _ elevate  _ their status to one another, for them to be the closest equivalent among dragons to a human marriage. 

Jaina covered her mouth with a hand, shaking now with almost hysterical giggles even as she sniffled through the last of her tears. The emotional whiplash of the last few moments had left her wrecked. Kalec conjured a hankerchief for her and she took it with a watery laugh, wiping her nose and eyes. She was a fool. A complete idiot. A wounded, suspicious, broken person and somehow he wanted her, above all others. He was still waiting for her response with a slightly worried but hopeful look. She found herself nodding. Words were beyond her.

Kalec's worried expression eased and he lit up like the sun. Jaina leaned in to kiss him, still caught between happy tears of joy and hysterical giggles of relief. He met her kisses fervently, as if he couldn't believe his good fortune and held her tight, as if she might disappear or change her mind. He chased the fears away and she ached she still needed that from someone, but she was equally grateful he was there to do it.

Jaina brushed his long, beautiful hair out of her face and stroked her hand down to cup the side of his face. It took a second for her to find her voice and draw it out through the stormy sea of emotions. "You are my first in love, Kalec. I will be your Prime if you are mine." She had no idea if those were the correct words or not, but they felt right to her and he seemed pleased.

"I will always be yours, my lady," he vowed, sending a little thrill down her spine. Then he kissed her again, long and intense, holding her safe in his arms.

When they broke apart, Jaina was laughing a little, her cheeks flushed from the kisses as much as embarrassment. "Are you sure?" She sniffed. "I'm a mess." How confusing must her actions have been for him?

"I have never been more certain," he said, brushing a last tear away with his thumb. 

Jaina still felt she needed to explain herself. "I thought- I thought you might be having trouble and were worried about something because you were acting oddly. But then I had the thought you might want to end things and were trying to be kind letting me down. And then I thought that would be so silly, you seemed happy with me. But it happened before and it's unfair of me. I know it's unfair, but I couldn't shake the thought and then you got so serious and wanted to talk." Jaina cut herself off. She was babbling and the ache in the back of her throat and the sting in her eyes threatened more tears.

Kalec pulled her close. "You were hurt very badly before."

She nodded. "You can still run."

"No," he said, shaking his head and rubbing his nose against hers.

"No?" she asked, feeling the giddy bubbles in her chest again.

"No," he said, smiling at her.

Jaina looked down, wiping at her eyes with the handkerchief he'd conjured. "I guess it's a little funny."

"Hey," he touched her face, drawing her chin up so she would look at him. "Are you okay?"

Jaina bit her lower lip and nodded. "Yes. A little embarrassed I took you trying to be romantic as a sign of doom."

Kalec leaned forward and kissed her, long and sweet. "I love you." He kissed her again.

"I love you," she said when the kiss ended. "I'm okay." Then the enormity of what they'd promised one another hit her and she let out a little laugh. "I think I need a little bit more of the wine. And dinner's getting cold. And you promised me desserts."

Kalec smiled, kissed her again then Jaina slid back onto the bench while he went to the kitchen. Jaina drank more of the expensive wine and ate a little bit more of the dinner Kalec had prepared for them. The food was a distraction at first, but it was very good. The wine helped to send her head to the dizzying heights and mute the less celebratory feelings. He returned minutes later with chocolate dipped fruits and pretzels, slices of cheesecake and cookies. Jaina was surprised at the variety but only very mildly as Kalec had a, now notorious in Dalaran, sweet tooth.

"What, no cupcakes?" she asked, joking. Kalec grinned then retreated to kitchen once more and came back with half a dozen on another plate. Jaina laughed while he filled her wine glass again. Laughing felt good and helped to chase the shadows.

Jaina finished her dinner and eyed the sweets Kalec was occasionally snacking on, his dinnerplate long since cleared. "I think I need a bit before I can contemplate eating those, as good as they look."

Kalec had already eaten half a slice of cheesecake. He waved a hand and cast a spell. "They'll keep." He finished the cake in two bites, refilled his glass of wine and Jaina's again. "Want to sit by the fire?"

Jaina smiled and rose. "Bring the dessert," she said, crossing to the comfy looking pile of blankets and pillows before the fire. Kalec followed, tray of dessert in one hand, his wine goblet in the other.

Kalec had done a good job making a comfy nest on the floor. He set the tray down out of the direct heat of the fire and Jaina cuddled up against him when he finally joined her. 

"So," Jaina began, "I know you have mentioned Soridormi runs the bronze flight and that others have had duties. Do I need to do anything for you in an official capacity? Are there any.... things I need to do now?" She sipped her wine, waiting for him to reply.

"Nothing formally," Kalec said. "Because my people are dispersed we don't have much really going on. Malygos's first Prime had died when Deathwing attacked. None of his other consorts stepped into any sort of leadership or advisory role." Kalec looked off, thoughtful. "I think that the only thing I would ask of you is something I would ask anyway, and that's help me to change attitudes so that maybe one day the Kirin Tor would be open to more of my people in Dalaran."

"Of course," she said, stroking her fingers over his chest. "You've done so much to help make the mages in Dalaran become more comfortable with your people."

"I think once they have some time, some of my blues will help me teach. As for the rest? I wouldn't mind if you continued to come with me to Azsuna. I'd like the younger dragons to get to know someone who isn't a dragon but who understands magic like we do," he said. "it's good for them."

"I'd like that," she murmured, sipping more of the heady wine. She loved watching him teach, whether it was her or others. He became so animated because he was talking about something he loved. And seeing Kalec surrounded by a flock of adorable whelps was incredibly endearing.

"What will the dragons in Azsuna think?" she asked. She didn't with to throw a pall on the cozy moment by the fire, but she needed to know.

Kalec chuckled. "Senegos said that my bringing this up with you was 'the least surprising thing he's seen in his long life', I think is how he phrased it." Jaina giggled as Kalec tried to imitate the elder dragon. Kalec became serious again. "You saved one of our children and slew the enemies of the flight. You helped save one of our the minders the children love most. You saved my life as well, though fewer of them know of that incident. You've been a champion among your own people and have fought and helped to fight enemies that threaten the whole world when we blues were in self-imposed exile in the Nexus. You've mastered incredible and complex transformation magic. It is impressive."

"I love you," she murmured. "I did it for you. For us. Not to impress."

"I know," Kalec said. "They know. And that makes it all the more worthy of respect. At least among the dragons in Azsuna.  They are used to me being the odd one.

"I've never taken this step with someone before," he admitted, with a small vulnerable smile that gave him a little bit of a boyish look. "We always grew apart or it wasn't quite right." He smiled, perhaps a bit tentative. Jaina's heart did little flips in her chest and she felt lightheaded in a way that had nothing to do with the mana-infused wine.

"What are my obligations to you, so I am clear on that?" Jaina asked. "Is there anything more we need to do?"

"I am yours and you are mine. We've named each other as first in love," he said, the boyish smile returning briefly before he became a bit more serious. "If someone were to seek to court you, they would also be courting me and vice versa. It's... I know it's just words and it isn't some sort of elaborate ceremony but this means a lot to me," he said, guileless eyes wide and blue. "It's-" he looked away them back at her with an intensity in his gaze that stole Jaina's breath. "No one has ever committed to me like you have. I've been the nice, odd dragon. That's always gotten in the way of a deeper connection. I haven't fit with anyone else quite so well before."

Jaina wanted to kiss those past sorrows away. He'd done the same for her.

"But in terms of doing things, now we just live it," he said with a small shrug. "I-"

Jaina cut him off with a kiss, unable to resist his lips any longer. He was sweet and adorable and felt as she did - they fit together well. They'd been able to grow and adapt together and Light willing they would for some time longer. She'd found healing and he had helped. Jaina only hoped she could help him in return.

She rose from the nest of pillows, taking her drink with her. Kalec blinked a few times in confusion, looking up at her from the floor.

"Bring the dessert and the wine," she said then walked towards the bedroom. She smiled to herself as she heard Kalec scrambling behind her to collect the plate of as of yet untouched treats and what remained of the wine. Jaina had plans for some of that chocolate.

Jaina pushed open the bedroom door and was pleased to see Kalec had thoughtfully set the fire in here as well. It made the room delightfully warm and gave a romantic illumination to the freshly made bed with- Jaina blinked.

There was a pile of flower petals dumped on the middle of the bed. Not spread out with artful abandon or in any sort of shape. Dumped. Like cleared snow. Jaina had to lean against the wall to keep from falling over as she laughed.

"Jaina?"

She looked over. Her beloved was standing in the doorway, tray in one hand, wine in the other, looking delightfully confused. She set her wine glass down on the bedside table, took the tray and bottle and set those beside the glass. Then she hauled Kalec in for a kiss.

"I did something wrong, didn't I?" he asked when they broke apart.

"No," she leaned up on her toes to place a light kiss on the tip of his nose. "You did everything perfectly right."

The rest of the wine and the treats were consumed... eventually.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back on Draenor, disruptive forces make their move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Wolfandwild for the looksee!  
> Thank you Thesseli, Ryuujin, Jainafan08, RhadgarKhadgar, Kaoupa, Wec, tty6, Wings90, venomRED and Fireglory for the lovely comments!
> 
> For those keeping track, this chapter contains large spoilers for Earthwader as it is further ahead in the timeline! But I wanted to work on the stories I was excited to write about even if they made them a bit asynchronous. Most of you are here for this story anyway ;)

Wrathion was pleased with how his new camp was working out. Already he had dispatched a team to take out another Shadow Council member - this one an ogre. Wrathion had early hope it might be Cho'gall but this warlock was reported to have only a single head. No matter, the Shadow Council would fall by his orders. He would cleanse this world of their corruption as he had cleaned Azeroth of the corrupted black flight.

Wrathion stepped out of his tent and surveyed his people.

Mage Neseema was in a hammock strung between two trees, her tail hung over the edge, swinging softly. Left was maintaining her rifle, a task which she did diligently in the muggy heat they were in currently. Right was out on patrol with Grey, Fizzbang and Flintrock, but due back soon. The light would begin fading soon as evening fell. Here they were in a more mountainous area and it would grow darker sooner. The cookfire had been stoked in anticipation of both dinner and the need for a bit more light. Lieutenant Halberk, late of Taylor's garrison was assisting Sandri Sparklepuff. The gnome priest was a surprisingly good cook. She insisted that she was tending to her flock in both body and spirit and had assumed role of cook as well as being their primary healer. The hunters were abroad catching game for future meals.

Satisfied with what he saw, Wrathion clasped his hands behind his back and considered the future. He had two potential targets and was considering if he had the resources for a simultaneous strike. Rustling in the bushes set everyone on edge until Right, and Flintrock slipped through the trees. He nodded at Right in greeting, but his bodyguard appeared to be ill at ease. The camp around them slowed as they caught the mood from the returned patrol.

"Report."

Right frowned slightly. "The woods are quiet. We came back early. I left Grey and Fizzbang out there for now, my Prince."

At the table, Left hastily reassembled her weapon. One of the druids, Proudhoof, woke Neseema.

That was when the attack came.

Ogres exploded out of the treeline wielding clubs and heavy swords. They were met with gunshots, fangs, blades, rebuking light, the fury of the wilds and dragonfire. Wrathion shifted into his natural form to burn the assailants or fly away if need be.The initial bull rush into the campground scattered the fire and set the tents ablaze. Wrathion's fire didn't help matters. Realizing this, he stopped and shifted back to his human form, drawing his blades. 

Why were ogres attacking? They were well enough outside the range of any claimed clan territories! The story he'd told Admiral Taylor was just that - a story! Wrathion had never actually bothered the ogres here. Now was not the time to contemplate this turn of events, however.

He stabbed an attacking ogre in the kidneys before the brute could finish off the gnome then ripped the blades out, covering himself with dark gore. He spun low and moved quickly to stab at the ogre who'd cornered Flintrock, their blades locked together. The ogre reared back, bellowing into the falling night. Flintrock took the opportunity to leap up, run two steps up the ogre's front and slash open his neck. The dwarf landed neatly on his feet then sprinted away before the ogre's body fell where the dwarf had been standing.

Wrathion waded back into the chaos and found a familiar figure, Master Fizzbang the rogue had returned. "My prince!" he called, falling in beside Wrathion.

"Where's Grey?" Wrathion asked.

"Dead. Ogres got to him," Fizzbang said with a scowl. He drew his pistol and shot an attacking ogre in the gut. The ogre fell to his knees, clutching his stomach. Wrathion finished him off with a slash to the throat 

"Damn," Wrathion swore. He'd come to appreciate Grey. "Come. We have to regroup and get out of here," Wrathion said to the gnome.

The campground was in chaos! The fires were growing out of control what had happened to their shaman? How had they been found and how had then managed to get so close? He whirled as footsteps drew his attention, Left, her face covered in blood stepped up to his side. Right, covered in blood and dirt, stepped out of the growing smoke onto his other side, her eyes darting around the glade and even up into the trees. The campground was a loss, but perhaps he and his companions could escape. Everything here could be replace-

As he had that thought, Wrathion realized there was one irreplaceable object - the gift from Kairozdormu.

"Cover me! I must recover my amulet!" Wrathion ordered. 

His guards nodded but Wrathion didn't wait. He shifted into his natural form and flew towards his tent. The canvas was burning, the slightly damp fabric sending off a lot of smoke into the air. Fire held no danger to black dragon however. Wrathion darted inside. He spared a look at the chest which contained the grimoires but headed for the amulet. The metal was hot in his paws as he clutched it to his chest and returned.

"Talons to me!" Wrathion roared through the blaze and chaos. They would execute a strategic retreat. Neseema could open a portal to Shadowmoon. Realizing he hadn't seen the mage recently, Wrathion looked around wildly and found her recklessly hurling arcane energy at their attackers, a wild light in her eyes. Neseema, he recalled, had a particularly primal fear of fire.

"Hold fast!" Wrathion roared. "Talons to me!"

Neseema gritted her teeth and fell in with the rest, her spellwork more steady as she fought through the fear. The group began to retreat. The mounts were dead or had flown away. If they could get some space, then their mage could get them out.

"Right, lead the way," Wrathion ordered as what remained of their group began a fighting retreat. He found their shaman dead on the ground, one of his warriors not far beyond him. Others of his Talons were dead or missing and Wrathion wondered if the Hunters were lost as well. "Neseema, we're going to need a way out!" Wrathion ordered. "Get her some room."

With Sandri holding a shield to their rear, the group focused on the ogres ahead of them and used their combined might to punch through the front line.

"Keep going!" Wrathion ordered and the group moved quickly. Neseema stumbled and Right caught her, helping the Draenei limp along. They fell to the rear of the pack until Flintrock hauled the mage over his shoulder and stomped onwards, drawing strength from the land.

The second attack came without warning. A ball of energy exploded in the middle of the Talons. Wrathion and Left were thrown from their feet, the explosion at their back. Wrathion smelled blood and saw his guard was bleeding. The rogue didn't look to bad, but Wrathion himself was scraped and bruised. 

Right, Neseema and Flintrock were blown off to the side in a heap. The Light faded as Sandri died. Proudhoof was dead on unconscious in a growing pool of her own blood.Their remaining druid, Ventira, bellowed, a sound filled with animalistic suffering that resonated through the trees. Bones shone through her deer-shaped legs. 

Dark shapes moved in the wood, coming closer. One moved faster than the others, a silver blur in the deep dusk shadows. One of the advancing ogres died screaming as the silvery shadow collided with them from behind, causing confusion and hesitation in the determined line closing in on them.

"Neseema!" Wrathion called in the space created by the confusion. If they were to escape it would need to be now! The Draenei had not fared well in the explosion. One of her horns had been broken and the left side of her body was rapidly being covered in her own blood. Right looked dazed but was trying to get the equally woozy mage up on her hooves.

The silver streak landed near Wrathion with a growl. Master Grey! Alive!

"Traitor!" the worgen howled, hurling a blade.

Behind him Left grunted in surprise, then Wrathion felt the heat of a blade slide into his side. The dagger withdrew but the wound  _ burned _ . Poison. As he turned, the world seemed to slow down. The gnome had avoided the thrown blade and instead stabbed Left then Wrathion. 

Ogres hurried forward with nets and bindings, somehow slow and awkward in Wrathion's altered perception. Grey leapt at Fizzbang, only to be knocked away by a blast of energy. Wrathion watched the worgen sail through the air, bounce once on landing then slide into a tree. 

Wrathion turned back to the gnome, his betrayer and felt something ripped from his neck. The amulet! He swiped for it but the gnome was far too nimble and stepped away, retreating between the advancing ogres. There was a strangely shaped ogre standing in the back line, swathed in dark purple and black robes, the glint of jewelry on thick fingers and a single horn.

"They need to run. They want us alive or they'd have killed us already," Left said, her voice rough and strained. She fought valiantly against the poison.

Wrathion turned his head, still too slow. Neseema, Flintrock and Right were together. The first weighted net came down on him and suddenly his mind seemed to snap into focus though the world around him was still slowed. He was already captured but his people could get him out.

"GO!" he ordered, seeing the wisdom in Left's command. "GO AND GET REINFORCEMENTS," he said, making it an order. They hadn't killed him yet. The poison that held him he knew well - it would slow him but it would not end his life, even if he weren't a dragon. The wound was not a killing blow and Fizzbang was a skilled fighter. He was needed for something. He saw the ogres descending on his people and made a choice.

Wrathion assumed his natural shape and blew flame at the oncoming ogres, as hot and as far as he could manage. He strained against the netting that snarled his wings and horns and continued to breath flames. The netting around him caught fire, metal melting and rope burning. The weighted nets held by his closest enemy likewise melted and burned. The other ogres recoiled, hesitating to get closer to the trio of Talons still free.

Neseema's eyes snapped up, glowing intensely blue through the sheet of blood on her face. She grabbed hold of Right and Flintrock and, with a primal scream, the group disappeared with the flash of a teleport.

Wrathion felt an odd sense of relief that Right and the others had escaped. They were  _ his  _ people and he had already lost too many to the traitor. Wrathion held his flame, saving what he had left for the next opportunity. A heavy cage slammed down onto the ground around him and he felt the faint buzz of protective warding - they had come prepared to steal a fire-breathing dragon, giving more weight to his suspicion he was needed for something. The poison began to sink it's claws back into his mind, slowing the world once more and dragging him into a seductive sleepiness. That was fine. He would allow this. He needed some rest - he would need his full strength.

His people, some of his best and most trusted Talons were free to rally the others. As long as his Talons were free, so was he. They would come for him and end whatever machinations Fizzbang was part of with the Highmaul. And when they arrived, Wrathion would be ready to help enact his own escape. He would be patient.

The poison wouldn't have been able to truly slow him if he were bigger, older, more powerful. Wrathion growled at his captors and his own misfortune as the ring of ogres finally collapsed. Left fought but Wrathion could see it was only to test their defenses. She knew as well as he did that more activity would only make the poison act faster. It was best for them to lie low and retain some semi-coherent awareness rather than fight and quickly succumb to unconsciousness.

"Sorry, but it's just business," the gnome said to Wrathion as he studied the device in his hands.

"My Lord will be pleased," the ogre said, their voice strange and- Wrathion abruptly realized his captor was a female ogre. He'd never seen one before and with the layers of veils, he did not have a good view of this one. Curious. She looked at him, her eyes glowing with arcane energy. Her aim was perfect, the bolt slipping between the bars. He was hit with a powerful stunning spell and knew no more.

* * *

Neseema ripped reality apart with a scream and dragged her companions through the rift, crossing the infinitesimal distance of space and time. She landed on her hooves in the middle of Lunarfall Garrison. The feedback of the messy spell set her nerves on fire and she fell to her hands and knees as soon as there was solid ground under them. 

Find reinforcements. Save her Prince - the only leader focused on the annihilation of the Legion. The only leader who'd actually given a damn about her. Oh, she knew she'd been little more than a pawn at first, Neseema was  _ used  _ to that. But it had changed after Taylor's Garrison. So much had changed after that. Wrathion had always been a little possessive about his people but now she felt he cared for them, for her, as more than just assets - as allies working for the same goal. Ogres had destroyed their camp, decimated the Talons present on Draenor, and her Prince had sent them away.   _ Find reinforcements _ .

Neseema was dizzy from blood loss and shock, but she could feel the fading magic of the command Wrathion had given. His powers were strange and uncontrolled and they had, all of them, been hit with the full force of it. By tacit agreement no one who noticed had ever spoken to their lord about it, but by the Light it was like he'd hit her between the eyes with a mace! 

As the feeling faded, her other injures came to the fore and she screamed. When a priest called down the Light to stop the bleeding of her broken horn, she sighed in relief, lighteheaded for a brief instant. Then recalled all she'd lost and broke down into sobs. She let the healers pick her up and carry her away. She would do no good for her Prince in this shape. She would heal. She would rest. She would pay back the traitor and recover her stolen prince.

* * *

Flintrock was numb. The Talons on Draenor had been  _ slaughtered _ . By ogres. They'd avoided the ogres. The ogres didn't factor into their plans! The shock of loss was as deep as the shock of his injures. He'd busted a rib when the spell had blown everyone away. The ogres had gotten in some good hits and it was only good, solid dwarven perseverance that had kept him going.

"Here," a Wildhammer accent said, shoving a mug of something strong into his hands while the healers called on the Light to heal his wounds.

Flintrock drank the entire stein down in one go then handed it back to the dwarven lass. By her clothing, she was one of the stable keepers. "Thanks," he said. "Keep 'em coming." She frowned, but not, he thought, at him. She nodded and left and returned quickly from the Inn.

The stable-hand, no, wait, she was the stable's veterinarian, returned with another dwarf. He was far younger, barely more than a teenager with his first baby-fine beard. The young lad set down a stand and a keg.

"Bless you, lass, laddie," Flintrock said as they silently poured him another.

Grey was probably dead. The old dog? Gone? It was unthinkable and yet here he was, in this impossible world. Wrathion was captured. Given that the traitor hadn't killed him immediately and he could have,  Wrathion was destined for some other fate.

Flintrock was going to see that never happened. And then he was going to peel that gnome's skin off. Slowly. 

* * *

She'd not always been known as Right. She'd had another name and another life once. She'd lost that life, had wandered the world for awhile and then had been saved from herself. She'd been given a purpose once more and had embraced her new name and role. Now it was all in jeopardy. Right set the thought aside and continued to analyze the situation.

Get reinforcements. Get help. They were taking Wrathion somewhere. The ogres had worn the trappings of the Highmaul so it was likely he would be there. For what purpose, though? She put a mental pin in that thought and moved on to the next one.

The rest of the Talons were on Azeroth. She needed to secure transport there and back. Their numbers had never been large and the losses suffered in camp had cut into them severely. Right would need to look for support from additional sources. Additional allies.

She looked around. The Mage was in charge here and she had come out to oversee the chaos. She was an ally of Wrathion's. Rising, Right went to speak to the Mage.

The worgen looked up as Right approached. "What happened?' Archmage Zaliya asked.

Right took a breath and explained all that had happened, ending with their orders to flee and get reinforcements. The mage beckoned and Right followed her into the large room being used to  plan operations.

"You think he was taken to Highmaul?" Zaliya asked.

"Yes," Right confirmed.

"I'll see about getting some scouts in there to see if he is and what shape he might be in." The worgen looked up, her golden eyes quite serious. "We're planning an operation there soon. Do you think this might be related?"

"I have no idea," Right answered.

Zaliya grunted then nodded at her map. "You'll be wanting to get the rest of the Talons on Azeroth, then."

"Yes. And whatever other allies I can gather. You were once counted as such."

Zaliya snorted out a breath, a very wolf-like noise. "He's a pain in my neck but he's been making himself useful. Besides, saving him from whatever fate would be the right thing to do. But he also knew his plans were dangerous from the start, that he was running a risk in being here. I have almost one hundred souls under my command here. I have a duty to them first."

Right gritted her teeth. "I understand."

Zaliya snorted. "Not sure you do. As I said, we're running an operation. It may be that when we move on Highmaul there might be an opportunity. I can't commit additional resources to you, but we may be able to coordinate."

Faint hope flared in Right's chest. "When?"

"Originally, a couple weeks from now but I don't imagine we'll be keeping that timeline. Which is also why I find this... interesting timing. Are you certain this isn't related?"

"I had no knowledge of your imminent movement on Highmaul. If I didn't know, then my Prince didn't know." Right grimaced. "But we had a traitor in our midst."

Zaliya's eyes sharpened. "Who?"

"A gnome. Goes by the name Fizzbang. Works as a rogue."

Zaliya's sharp teeth glinted as she snarled. "He's been doing odd jobs here on occasion. He might know of our timeline." Her clawed hands clacked on the map as she thought. "Right," she said, leaving the table and heading for a locked chest in the corner. "I think we need to move this timeline up. I am reasonably certain that the Horde will agree. So we hit HIghmaul when they won't be expecting it. I can give you two days." 

She opened the chest and withdrew a sturdy wooden box. She locked the chest again and set the box down on the table. "Take these. They're attuned here." Zaliya opened the lid and spun the box around so Right could see the dozen or so hearthstones nestled in packing straw like eggs. Zaliya shut the lid and pushed it across the table. Right took the box.

"Two days," Zaliya said.

"I understand."

"You're gonna need a hell of a crew, I think," Zaliya said. "You taking Flintrock with you?"

"Yes. Neseema is probably too injured."

Zaliya winced. "By the look of her horn and how much blood, I don't think she'll be on her feet in anything less than a week, let alone traipsing about Highmaul."

"She'll hate it but I can't in good conscience take her with us," Right said. "She did her part and got us out. Now we have to see it through. I'll speak to her before I go. See she's watched?"

Zaliya nodded and gestured towards the door. "Aye. You'll want a mage with you."

Right scowled as she fell in beside the Archmage. "I'll find someone."

Right spoke with a mostly incoherent Neseema then collected Flintrock. The dwarf was drinking away his anger with two of the local dwarves. He looked sober enough and his stance never wavered when he rose to meet Right.

"Where am I sending you?" Zaliya asked.

Right set her jaw and tamped down the inner voice that had already begun screaming. Her stomach lurched. She answered in a voice far more steady than she felt. "Stormwind."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right seeks help in Stormwind. Anduin gets more than he bargained for while looking for a second opinion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Auri for letting me babble at her!  
> Thank you RhadgarKhadgar, Gasel, Silver_Shadow360, Kalla_Moonshado and tty6 for the lovely comments last chapter!

Jaina woke around dawn. She stretched out under the sheets feeling warm and still sleepy. Hardly surprisingly she thought with a smile; they'd not really slept all that much. Jaina reached over to Kalec's side of the bed, but found he wasn't there. Frowning to herself she sat up on one arm, pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked around the bedroom. The fire was going and had newly placed logs. The door into the great room was open and delicious smells wafted in from the kitchen over the scent of the wood fire. 

Wind whipped by the cabin, trying to find cracks to escape into and rattling the roof and trees around them. Snow and ice blew off the roof in sparkling gusts before the wind settled again. Jaina sank down into the bedding with a pleased hum, pulling the blankets over her head to ward against the cold outside. She didn't  _ need  _ to be back in the city since it was the weekend and Modera knew where she was if Jaina was needed. Snoozing in bed for a little longer seemed like a wonderful idea. Kalec would wake her whenever he was done in the kitchen.

The thought of Kalec, of the certainty of the future with him, filled her with a giddy happiness. She'd found home and with that thought, she found she could relax just a bit more. Jaina smiled in the warm nest of blankets. Snuggling back under the covers, she dozed until Kalec's steps at the door and gentle call woke her.

He'd brought a tray heavily loaded with breakfast for the two of them. Smiling, Jaina sat up in bed as Kalec set the tray to levitate over her legs. Then he hurried around to his side and got under the covers. Jaina laughed as he wriggled close, then she pretended to complain when his feet were cold. He pressed his feet against her and then his nose and she squealed and squirmed as he kissed her while they tussled in bed. Their knees bumped the tray, rattling the dishes and both broke off their impromptu wrestling match, laughing. Jaina scooted back on the bed and after some adjusting of pillows, had a reasonably comfortable seat. Kalec joined her, drawing the floating tray closer to it could serve as an impromptu table.

He'd made coffee for himself and tea for her. There was bacon, scrambled eggs, pancakes and the last half of the cheesecake they'd not finished the evening before. Jaina took her tea in both hands, the mug warming her fingers. She smiled at Kalec in thanks and sipped the warm drink.

Little had changed and yet so much had. They'd repeated their sincere vows to one another many times in the night as they'd loved one another and laughed together. It was not the wedding she'd imagined having as a child, but she wasn't displeased with her reality. Her world now was a far cry from the dark place she'd lived in so recently. Each day brought her one step closer to feeling normal. Perhaps one day she might feel better than she ever had as an adult. At least for right now, Jaina was happy and content to let the future care for itself. 

* * *

Right stepped from the portal and kept walking. Flintrock kept up. Zaliya had, by request, dropped them in one of the designated "safe landing" zones in the mage district of Stormwind. The soft fragrance of flowers and the harsher scents of alchemical supplies mingled in the air. It was quiet here in the mage district but she could see pairs of guards strolling in the distance - less out of concern for the mages and more out of concern for "unintended pyroclastic events" as they were called. Right passed them all by, heading towards the nearest mailbox.

She wrote a quick message, sealed it then shoved it into the mail slot. She heard the faint 'pop' as the letter was sent.

"Gather our people," she said to Flintrock. "Meet at the safehouse here. If I don't join you by nightfall then I've been compromised and you will be in charge."

The dwarf's bushy eyebrows raised then lowered. He nodded once, pulled up his hood and blended into the crowd. Right took a steadying breath, then a second, then went to the Blue Recluse.

The tavern wasn't especially crowded but it wasn't empty at this time of day - perfect for her needs. She ordered a beer and a plate of roasted boar and tubers. She wasn't especially hungry with all that was going on, but she'd not eaten since that morning and her prince needed her to be in fine form. 

And a meal would give her readily available weapons. A knife and fork weren't her usual tools, but they'd be at hand in a way her rifle couldn't be and she might get lucky and they wouldn't notice. It was unlikely, but Right would take the chance. When the food arrived, she found herself suddenly famished and it was an effort not to wolf the plate down. But then a newcomer entered and Right suddenly found she wasn't terribly hungry after all.

Amber Kearnan walked into the tavern. She didn't have her rifle with her anymore than Right had hers, but Right wasn't silly enough to assume she was unarmed. The SI:7 agent got a drink from the bar then joined Right at the table by the back.

"R-"

"Right," she corrected, interrupting.

Amber's face was impassive but she accepted this with a slight nod. "I was surprised to get your note. I'd thought you might want to consider some of the options you had." She lifted the mug. "But,  _ Right _ , I gather that's not what this meeting is about."

"No, it isn't. I need to speak with Prince Anduin. It's matter of some urgency."

Amber looked at her long and hard, then lifted her monocle, and considered her further. "You're not joking."

"No. I would think my being here would be proof enough of that."

Amber snorted and hefted her mug. "You're not getting in to the keep."

"Fine. Then some other location."

Amber set her drink down with a look before it even reached her lips. "I know who you crawled out of the gutter to work for.  _ What  _ you work for. What makes you think you can just waltz in and demand to speak with our prince?"

" _ Your _ prince," Right said firmly. " _ My _ prince has been captured. By Ogres. He is wanted for some reason and I intend to get him back." Right did not want to explain this latest failure, but she was in no position to remain prideful.

"You have your own organization. Use them. Don't drag my prince into any messes."

Right's jaw clenched. "Most of our people were killed when the ogres attacked. Only three of us escaped."

Sympathy flashed across Amber's face, quick as lightning, before she resumed her stony impassiveness. "All the more reason I will not be putting my Prince in danger."

"I am not asking him to come," Right snapped. She took a breath in then out. "I am asking for support. Archmage Zaliya says there will be an opportunity soon. I have two days to find support outside of her forces so I can go in and recover my people."

"Surely your new master has others he can call on."

"Anyone else he might have called on is otherwise engaged with the ongoing planning, is captured or is dead," Right admitted, the words coming out biting and hard. "My prince considered Prince Anduin to be a friend."

Amber snorted again. "Some way of showing it."

" _ He _ took no lives and there was ample opportunity for that to happen," Right said. "They might not agree on methods but-" she cut herself off and shook her head. "We are getting beside the point. Let me speak with him. He can command forces to assist us."

"What makes you think he would even want to listen to you?" Amber all but sneered. She caught herself then scowled. "Nevermind, don't answer that."

"Let me ask him. Set up the meeting."

Amber scowled at her. "Why did you contact me?"

"Because you were the person least likely to shoot me on sight. You know I wouldn't ask unless this was important." They had known one another well once upon a time; cousins so close they'd been mistaken as sisters. Then life, as it tended to do, had happened and their paths had diverged.

"Why is it important? He's just a dragon. A black dragon at that."

"Because he saved me. Because it is the right thing to do. Because I have broken promises before and  _ I will not break this one _ ."

* * *

Anduin had been surprised by the request for a meeting from one of Wrathion's bodyguards. Anduin couldn't admit total surprise that Wrathion found himself in trouble. He was still angry with Wrathion, or perhaps more accurately he was annoyed by the dragon's insistence that only through conflict could there be some sort of "winner" in the ongoing wars which would lead to a unified response against the Legion. It could have been some sort of ploy so he'd confimed Right's story with Archmage Zaliya.

The human half of Wrathion's bodyguard duo looked ragged but focused. She laid out her request clearly - she wished for additional help in freeing Wrathion the moment the combined garrison forces marched on Highmaul. 

Anduin listened carefully. He couldn't discern any sort of ploy. That didn't mean there wasn't one. He told her he would think on it and then contact her shortly. She looked disappointed and Anduin's heart went out to her, but this was something he needed to consider carefully. She was escorted from the keep and Anduin watched her go, considering his options.

"What do you think?" Anduin asked.

Tess Greymane slipped from the shadows and plopped down into a chair with a small scowl. "You couldn't have known I was there."

Anduin grinned. Truthfully, after having been surprised a fair number of times in the last year, Anduin had begun to address the air when he thought something interesting was going on that she might have decided to attend to. This was the first time he'd managed to catch his friend lurking about. She rolled her eyes at him. "So?" he prompted.

"I don't trust this Wrathion person," she said. "I read the SI:7  report of what happened at the trial. Father was there and told mother what happened. I listened in." She gave him a look. "Why are you trusting him now? What makes you think this isn't an elaborate trap?"

"I'm not sure I trust him. Or rather, I can trust he will act in a way that with further his own ends, but I don't agree with his conclusions or logic on what to do." Anduin shook his head. "But this isn't his style. I don't think he would maim one of his Talons as badly as Zaliya said his mage was hurt. He wouldn't lower himself to beg for help either."

"But would he send a minion to beg in his name as part of a ploy? One that might fool the Archmage in Lunarfall?"

"I don't think so," Anduin said.

"You're going to help him," Tess accused in a mild tone. "You've already made up your mind."

"I am open to the idea this is a trap," he corrected. "Which is why I'm going to seek a second opinion." He rose from his seat. Tess followed him out of the room. "If Right was telling the truth and he was captured then it's an opportunity for us to thwart whatever machinations the Iron Horde have. He's been able to effect great changes. Maybe next time he'll actually do something that isn't obnoxious or counter to all rational sense." He gave her a level look. "And it is the right thing to do."

Tess snorted. "So who's opinion are you going to get?"

"Kalecgos. He's mentioned speaking with Wrathion a few times and he might have some idea of why they would want a dragon whelp. Or, if it is some sort of ploy, what Wrathion might be plotting." Anduin sighed. "But given that Archmage Zaliya agreed to assist Right even this far, I suspect this is all legitimate." She continued to follow him and Anduin looked askance. "Planning on coming?" he asked as he put on a light coat.

"I like Dalaran," she said with an enigmatic smile. "And besides, this might be interesting." Her smile became somewhat sharper for just a moment. 

Anduin shrugged. "Fair enough. Did you get a chance to look over the summit proposal documents. I'd appreciate any insight you might have in convincing your father to even read them."

Tess snorted and rolled her eyes. "Liam could ride in tomorrow, hale and healthy and I'm not certain my father would agree."

Anduin left word that he would be visiting Jaina, lest his father overreact to his apparent disappearance. Since Tess had decided to come, Anduin couldn't use his Hearthstone, so they headed for the standing portal to Dalaran. They talked about Anduin's plans as they crossed through and made their way to the Violet Citadel. However they discovered that Jaina and Kalec were not in Dalaran. Modera cheerfully opened a portal to Theramore for them.

Anduin looked around with interest as his feet hit the snow. The wind was a shock after the warmth of the Violet Citadel.

"Woah." Tess was staring at the tree. "I'd heard about it. A lot of our druids came here. Celestine visited. She told mother and me all about it but seeing it is something else."

"I was there when they first planted it. It was a sight to see," Anduin said.

Tess hummed thoughtfully. "You go on. I'll catch up. It's not like there are too many houses here and Archmage Modera's directions were simple enough."

Anduin shrugged and walked off, following Modera's instructions. Behind him, Tess's boots crunched in the light layer of snow as she climbed the hill to get a better look at the tree's trunk. There was a path around town, loosely defined by a few lamps and a low fence, both new construction, weathering their first winter. It was nice to see the signs of civilization returning to the island.

Anduin followed this path around the tree, past the inn and stables. The path here was even more sparse, with just the shape of the settled snow to define it. Tracks belonging to the few residents weren't visible though he passed two small homes with active chimneys and warm light from the windows. The pines here were smaller and clearly new as this was still within the old city bounds. Further on, the remains of one of the outer walls had been used to create a stout home able to withstand the coastal winds off the ocean. The trees here were fewer in number and bore the scars of the blast, their limbs twisted unnaturally or sheared off, their trunks partially broken then healed in off shapes. The most crooked were being held up with scaffolding and he could see a couple druids tending to one further off in the distance despite the last vestiges of winter weather.

As he continued, the pines grew older as these trees had escaped the worst effects of the blast. The sound of the ocean became more muffled by the boughs laden with snow. His footfalls crunched in time with the muted surf as he finally rounded the bend and found what he'd been looking for.

Kalec had consulted with Varian for the structure and so Anduin had heard about it and had eagerly anticipated her reaction. It had been just as heartwarming as he'd hoped it would be. They'd made some adjustments to the plans or perhaps he'd not recalled the details. No matter, the cabin was cozied up against a rocky uplift on the island, the many windows facing towards the ocean. The broad porch which ran along the front would be a fine place to gather in the summer months and he eagerly looked forward to when Jaina would invite him and his father to her home here.

Anduin stomped the snow off his feet on the steps up then wiped his boots on the mat before looking in the front door's window. The cabin had been weatherproofed and some furniture brought in, but it was clearly unfinished. There was a fire in the hearth and their cloaks hung by the door. The great room was largely empty save for a box of workman's tools, some piled lumber and the long table with the remains of their lunch. Folded blankets and pillows were stacked on the end of the long table nearest to the fire. There were no pictures on the walls yet and, most telling, Jaina hadn't filled any of the inbuilt bookcases with more than a handful of tomes. He could just barely make out voices further into the building and a muted, rhythmic tapping as someone used a hammer on one of the walls. Aunt Jaina had always encouraged him to come right in, so he tried the door's handle and found it unlocked.

Warm air washed over him as he stepped inside, enveloping in the sense of home and the scents of the logs burning in the fireplace, the smell of sawdust, and the faint remains of lunch. For a moment Anduin found a sort of blissful peace... 

Which turned into paralyzing horror when there was a breathy moan from the other room. The sound of deep feminine pleasure was accompanied by deeper male grunts of effort with an underlying, resonant growl. The rhythmic rapping of wood on wood had much more bedframe squeak on this side of the door- and accompanied by flesh on flesh. The pattern abruptly slowed and there followed a longer, deeper, careless sound somewhere between a coo and a scream, which was itself followed by Kalec's deep, smug chuckle.

Out.

Now.

He needed to leave now. He turned so quickly he slammed the door shut. Anduin fumbled with the door's handle as the amorous sounds from the bedroom continued. He flung the door open and escaped, slamming it closed behind him, then ran into a surprised Tess.

Tess yelped and, in a feat of acrobatics Anduin hadn't seen the likes of since Pandaria, managed to not only disengage herself from Anduin's impromptu shove, but keep herself upright and also keep Anduin upright before they both fell comically over the side of the porch's railing. Anduin's momentum kept him stumbling forward down the stairs and onto the snowy lawn, the memory of the sounds haunted him.

"What the- Anduin?" Tess asked concerned as she followed him down. "Is everything- Oh. Ohhh."

Anduin's face was already flaming but her knowing drawn out word just made his embarrassment worse.

"Got an eyeful, huh?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"No, but I heard plenty." The grunting and moans lingered in memory and he forced them away, focused on the crunch of the snow and the sound of the surf.

"Why'd you go marching in unannounced?" she asked.

Anduin winced. "Aunt Jaina's always told me her door is open whenever I wanted to visit and that I never needed to knock."

"Mmm," Tess mused. "Bet that was before she had Lord Kalec to keep her company."

Anduin grunted acknowledgement.

"I thought you Stormwind types weren't hung up about this sort of thing," Tess said. She now held her elbow in one hand and was considering him. The amusement at his mortification did wonders to help him get over the shock and embarrassment.

"We're not as hung up about sex as you Gilneans," he retorted, perhaps a bit peevishly and snappy but Tess seemed to be more amused than offended. "But it's  _ private _ . We're not fornicating in the streets."

"Hmm, might as well be to hear some nobles of Father's court talk about it," Tess said with an eye roll. She snorted. "There's one particularly crusty gentleman who's trying to terrify my father with the idea I'd run off with some bisexual Stormwind libertine." Her eyes narrowed as she looked into the distance. "Fortunately mother hates him so he doesn't get more than a word in edgewise."

"Is your father trying to arrange something you don't like?" Anduin asked. Anything was better than contemplating what was going on inside the cabin. The memory was fresh, the sounds had been, to be honest, fairly arousing, but he'd transgressed not only into a private space, but one which belonged to  _ family _ , which left it doubly wrong.

"No," Tess said, waving a dismissing hand, mercifully oblivious to Anduin's conflicted mental state. "He still doesn't want to confront Liam's death. If he does then he has to confront everything else that's changed, so he focuses on the Banshee Queen and her demise." She sighed. "And thus I have to handle other things."

"What  _ are  _ you doing?" Anduin asked her. "I know it's something to do with some of your nobles."

She looked at him askance, considering. "You haven't wanted to know before. Are you that desperate to be distracted from the image of your aunt getting plowed by the Aspect of Magic?"

Yes he was and now the sounds had images. Anduin cringed. " _ Tess _ ."

She giggled. Jerk. He glared and she looked somewhat apologetic then became more serious. "Maybe someday. But not now. You have a terrible poker face."

"I am regretting you coming along."

"Sorry," she said and sounded like she meant it. She looked off into distance, watching the waves through the trees. "This is a Gilnean issue. A problem in  _ my  _ kingdom. Stormwind has already given us a lot of support and I appreciate that, deeply. But there are problems I need to handle. Changes  _ I _ need to be the one to make."

"I'm sorry I asked."

Her lips quirked up in a rueful smile though her eyes never left the sea. "Don't be. I appreciate the offer. And you are helping in a way just by you being you and your kingdom being as it is." She shook her head. "I will see what I might do in regards to your idea of a summit and with Father. I'm not entirely comfortable with your idea myself but I also do not relish the idea of losing anyone else trying to retake Gilneas."

Anduin nodded. "Your father isn't the only one who might not be supportive. Tyrande wasn't exactly supportive when Aunt Jaina broached the idea." His turn to sigh. "At least the Dwarves seemed like they might be willing to entertain the idea."

"Speaking of Lady Jaina, shall I go loudly stomp up to the door and knock?"

Anduin scowled. "You, a proper Gilnean? Subjecting yourself to such vile pornographic filth?"

Tess smirked as she turned on her heel. "Nothing's proper about me anymore, Wrynn. Come on." She marked back to the cabin, making more noise than Anduin had ever heard her make. She listened for a moment then motioned Anduin over. He stomped up the stairs making more noise than necessary. Tess rapped on the door with heavy strikes.

"Some irony here in a Gilnean saving someone from Stormwind from hearing inappropriate things," she murmured when he joined her.

Anduin rolled his eyes. "It isn't inappropriate behavior, it's private and I don't want to have any sort of witness to my aunt's bedroom activities," he said in an equally low voice.

The door was abruptly opened from the inside by Kalec. He was wearing loose pants low enough to show off the hollows of his hips and thin enough to imply everything that lay beneath. There was the slightest sheen of sweat across his bare chest which was surprisingly well defined. His long blue hair was tousled in a way that looked exceptionally touchable. He snorted, a sound deep and resonant as the door opened, a sound of annoyance as being disturbed. Kalec's expression was usually one of polite interest if not genuine, cheerful curiosity but here and now his eyes were narrowed and glittered dangerously. The scent of sex and an alluring male musk clung to him and both got a whiff as the unexpected sex god answered the door.

"Ah," stammered Tess, somehow able to say anything when Anduin's voice was still paralyzed.

He peered down at them, head tilted as if he didn't quite know what to make of them. Then as abruptly as he was there, the The Aspect of Sex was gone and replaced with Kalec. His features softened a bit and he looked surprised.

"Anduin?"

"Hi. Modera told me, er, us, she told us you were here. With Jaina. But I actually need to speak with you. It's important. It's about Wrathion. He's in trouble."

Kalec frowned as he stepped away from the door, beckoning them in from the cold and then shutting it behind them.

"Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Jaina's in the shower. I'll be right back," Kalec said. He was halfway to the bedroom before he paused and came back, eyeing Anduin askance. "I thought I heard the front door earlier..."

Anduin felt the blood creep into his cheeks. Tess pointedly looked away and busied herself with the leftovers. Kalec blanched then looked over his shoulder in the direction of the bedroom and presumably the shower where Jaina was. 

"Nope. No doors. First time I've been in here," Anduin said quickly.

"Good. Good," Kalec agreed quickly. He glanced back at the bedroom then at them again. "I'll be right back."

Anduin blew out a breath then fixed his companion with a level look. "Not a word."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Tess replied archly.

Anduin shook his head and then forced the sounds and images out of his head again. Kalec usually had sweets. Some sort of pastry would be an excellent distraction.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaina decides if she is going to help recover Wrathion or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Jessa dn Auri for letting me babble and giving some guidance and catching errors :)
> 
> Thank you Gasel, Deadly_Nighshae, Skooma, Ryuujin, Thesseli, tty6, FireGlory, JThorsten, cristinaafaye, illidaddy1008 for leaving me lovely comments!!
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this one. It turned out to be unexpectedly difficult to write.

Jaina hummed in pleasure as the warm water cascaded over her body. She tilted her head up to the shower, letting the water fall across her face. Kalec entered the bathroom, the cooler air of the bedroom sending the steam into swirls around her.

 "Everything okay out front? Come to join me?" she asked, hoping he would. He'd thought something was hitting the front wall and had been gone long enough he'd found something, but couldn't have been catastrophic.

"Anduin was knocking at the door," Kalec said pushing aside the shower door so they could speak.

 "Anduin?" Jaina asked, turning off the water. "What happened?" she asked, fearing the worst. If he'd tracked her down all the way here, then something must be going on.

 Kalec handed her a towel as she stepped out. "He said there's been an incident on Draenor and Wrathion needs help. He wanted to speak with me about that." He banished the pants, stepped past her and turned the water back on.

 "Wrathion?" Jaina asked, alarmed. "Why is he helping him?"

 "I don't know yet," Kalec said, emerging a moment later, cleaner and smelling less like sweat and sex. He used a spell to dry himself and Jaina belatedly did the same. She used another spell to take out out the wrinkles from her dress, which had been tossed into a heap on the floor by Kalec the evening previous, and put it on. Kalec's hands lingered on her shoulders after he helped her fasten the back, but only briefly.

 Jaina smiled at Anduin when she saw him but was surprised to see that Tess Greymane was here as well. What was going on? She and Kalec sat on one side of the table while Anduin told them what happened on Draenor.

 Wrathion had been captured by some angry ogres and his people there decimated. One of his ever-present bodyguards had come to Anduin of all people for support. The matter was further complicated by the revelation that one of the Whelp's people had turned traitor. Jains stewed in her seat, certain her expression was growing very more stony as the matter was explained to her. Princess Tess looked as if she shared Jaina's opinion. Anduin, bless his good but nieve heart, looked to be ready to march on Draenor.

 "We need to help get him back," Kalec said when Anduin had finished recounting.

 Jaina had just been about to say the exact opposite thing. "What?" she snapped instead, surprised. Anduin winced at the harsh tone. Kalec blinked at her in surprise then frowned. Tess looked between Jaina and Kalec then quietly rose, tugging Anduin away.

 Jaina found her pulse racing and her cheeks burning in embarrassment as the youngsters fled. Kalec had a stormy look about him. She spoke before he could and this time managed to keep her voice low. "Either this is an elaborate trap or he's gotten himself into trouble. In either case why should we help get him back?"

 "Because it is the right thing to do," Kalec said, his tone equally intense and low.

 "Is it?" Jaina questioned. "This whole mess in Draenor is something he helped bring about."

 "It is. Because he is a whelp," Kalec said, exasperation already creeping into his voice.

 "One with a Titan database in his head and maturity beyond his years. Even you have admitted to that. He doesn't act like the whelps his age in Azsuna, Kalec. He knew what he was doing with Garrosh and Kairozdormu," Jaina retorted. Part of her began to scream internally. They'd spoken words of commitment to one another and a day later they were beginning to fight. Her hands clenched in her lap. Why couldn't she have anything good?

 "That database is another reason he should be retrieved," Kalec pointed out.

 Jaina wanted to deny that but couldn't. "Our plans have been jeopardized because one of his operatives was turned by the enemy. If we have additional resources to spend, we should use them in the planned assault. Zaliya is having to move before we're ready. Things are going to go wrong. People are going to get killed by oversights from rushing."

 Kalec grunted. It wasn't a pleasant sound. Jaina looked away. The whelp had hurt her, had hurt Anduin, had caused deaths and might cause more. And now she was fighting with her mate because of him. Kalec was quiet. Too quiet and for too long. As much as she hated the rising feeling of loathing and anger and shame, she was finding it hard to break free. She took a slow breath and then another. Her eyes burned.

 "Jaina," Kalec finally said, far more calmly than Jaina expected or maybe felt she deserved. He took her hands unfolding the clenched fists. He sighed and she finally looked at him. "I feel responsible in a way. I've been trying to help him find his way here and there, to be a better dragon." There was a tremor of pain and frustration in Kalec's voice.

 "This is another mess of his own making," Jaina said, trying to wrangle her feelings and hold them in check. "I won't lose more people to his machinations gone wrong." She'd already lost so many people. There was finally, finally, progress being made in Draenor, but it was so fragile, everything was on the knife's edge. A little push could make it all collapse into disaster and they were already pushing their luck given what had happened with the Silver Covenant.

 He squeezed her hands. "If I help here, then maybe he'll stop doing things that get him into trouble like this."

 Jaina snorted. Kalec grimaced and Jaina felt guilty. She didn't say anything and eventually Kalec continued. "He's been making a pest of himself on Draenor in a way that benefits us."

 "Wrathion only ever acts in _his_ best self interest," Jaina countered. Khadgar had been fighting the Shadow Council on his own, trying to find them and stop whatever it was they were doing. He'd mentioned the pressure Wrathion had added was helpful, but neither of them trusted the black dragon's goals.

 Kalec frowned but continued on. "The Highmaul have him right now, but what if he's a gift to the Iron Horde and they have some use for him? What if they turn him into a monster? What if they use his knowledge to change the course of the war on Draenor?" He squeezed her hands again. "What if they give him to the Shadow Council?"

Jaina had a sudden, terrifying image. The Shadow Council worked for the Legion. The Legion worked for Sargeras, the Mad Titan. The Titans had gifted the mantles to the dragon aspects. What would an Aspect of Destruction look like? In her mind's eye she beheld a dragon as large as Deathwing, sickening Fel energy dripping from between his broken scales like blood. Her breath caught and her blood ran cold. "Sargeras..."

 Kalec nodded, expression grave, eyes haunted. "Sargeras could take any of us, corrupt any of us, but I think it would be easier with Wrathion because of how he came to be."

 Jaina nodded acceptance of that, cowed by the truth of his words, the vision of terror and the sudden gulf between them. He was older, wiser, more powerful and in the moment Jaina felt small and petty. He'd picked her out of all beings on Azeroth. Her stomach roiled.

 "Aside from all of those horrors, Jaina... He's a _whelp_." Kalec's hands squeezed hers again as he plead. "I know he's been wrong. I know he's hurt you. I know it's dangerous but how can I live with myself if I didn't stop a whelp from being hurt."

 And suddenly Kalec sounded young again. Her heart ached for him, for his pain, for her own. She'd remembered her younger self in the visions presented by the bronzes at Garrosh's trial- young and determined as Kalec was. Idealistic as Anduin was. She'd stood alone for so long, letting everything grind her down, the tides of war crashing against her, wearing away the seawall of her resolve.

 But it was the past. She could move forward. She had allies and a new foundation. Jaina even had, after a fashion, a husband - who was asking for her support. She could- she _would_ help him. She would help Anduin. Because she'd not been helped before and had desperately wished for, and even begged for, support. _They_ hadn't turned their backs on her. She wouldn't turn on them. Jaina let out a shaky breath and squeezed Kalec's hands back.

 "I don't like him," Jaina said, "But I suppose we have to get him out of whatever trouble he's in this time."

 

* * *

 Events moved quickly.

 Anduin and Tess returned to Stormwind. Jaina and Kalec returned to Dalaran to gather what they might need to help in this endeavor. Jaina left instructions with the rest of the council. Or at least those who would remain in Dalaran. Spellsong was holding the Bluff in case this was a ruse. Modera insisted on joining the frontal assault on Highmaul. She left with her slightly nervous-looking apprentice Luci, some defenders and a handful of other mages. They were to help secure the garrisons while the bulk of the combined forces of Azeroth and Draenor were marching on Highmaul.

 Mindful of her last visit to Draenor and the battle of Karabor, Jaina was dressed for a fight. She'd not typically availed herself of the Kirin Tor's armory and equipment as they were items she was less familiar with, but this time she was taking no chances and coming prepared - be it for ogre magi or treacherous black dragon whelps. She had opted for the same outfit typically worn by the Kirin Tor defenders. The subtle enchantments running through her clothing would turn glancing blows and blunt more direct strikes. She wore her necklace just in case. Jaina was still not confident in the speed of her transformations but she would rather be with the tool than without it. This time she was also wearing rune-embroidered bracer wraps of of high-quality spellweave. According to the intelligence they'd been gathering, the seat of power of the Gorian empire was positioned over a confluence of leylines. Should she need to pull from one, she wasn't going to be stuck with burned flesh and hands that were alternately tender and numb.

 Unlike the Iron Horde, which had risen to become a technological powerhouse, the strength of the Gorian Empire had been its sorcerer kings. Powerful mages were almost certainly among the enemies they would be facing. Not the least of which would be the current emperor. Modera was practically giddy at the prospect of unloading on the lot of them. Jaina was far less enthusiastic about unleashing wanton destruction, but fortunately she would not be called upon to do so.

 Probably.

 Most likely.

 The extraction team was operating on the ideas of stealth and infiltration, allowing the bulk of the raid to be noisy and destructive. Jaina held no illusions everything would go according to plan, but she was not there to rip apart HighMaul from its very foundations.

 Kalec opted for wearing the clothing he typically did when he was facing some sort of conflict among mortals. The gemstone held across his chest had a number of protective functions she'd learned. They allowed him to offload the upkeep of those spells to the stone so he could actively use other defensive or offensive spells, but such a thing required a mage's mana pool to operate. The small gemstones they'd enchanted for Varian's Winter's Veil gift had operated on the same principles but without the need for a mage. Kalec's pants were brown leather and delightfully tight, but the upcoming battle was enough to keep Jaina from being distracted by his assets. The shirt he wore was spellthread and, much like her clothing, would protect against conventional weaponry. Though, even in his half-elf form, as a dragon he was decidedly more rugged than she was.

 Kalec was also armed with emergency supplies in case something catastrophic had happened to the whelp. Some were more medicinal in case the whelp had been injured, others were in case Wrathion had already fallen to a terrible fate.

 Jaina touched his arm and stepped close. She could see the tension weighing him down like a shroud. He lightened a little when she was close. He took her hand in his then they crossed through a portal to Draenor.

 Lunarfall was bustling with activity as the garrison mobilized for war. The main bulk of their forces would be transferred to a rally point near Highmaul soon. They would meet with an equal number of the forces from Frostfire. Together they would storm the city.

 Their smaller team, pulled together in scant hours, was collecting near the fountain in the center. Jaina saw Wrathion's human bodyguard speaking with a motley collection of what Jaina assumed were more of his so-called "Talons. Beside them was a human woman carrying a sniper rifle. Jaina vaguely recognized her as belonging to Stormwind's SI:7. More familiar and only slightly surprising was the presence of Tess Greymane looking sleek and deadly in dark leather. Beside her was Valeera Sanguinar, looking equally deadly, though her leathers flashed scarlet under her dark cloak.

 Beside Valeera was another cloaked figure. Jaina could feel the protective spellweave from here. Who would- She faltered a step before leaving Kalec behind as she marched over to Anduin Wrynn.

 "No."

 Anduin looked up, the smile on his face fading into a serious expression. "I'm going," he insisted.

 "No, you are not," Jaina said, pulling him to the side. She kept her voice low but the eyes of Right, Valeera, Kalec and Tess were on their conversation.

 "This team needs someone to heal the injured."

 "There are a dozen other people here who can fulfill that role," Jaina told him.

 "I'm going. Wrathion trusts me."

 "And we cannot trust him," Jaina countered, hands clenching on her staff. Why did she find herself fighting with family again? "Your father doesn't know you're here, does he." Jaina said. It wasn't a question.

 Anduin's expression hardened. "No, but this is something I need to do."

 "Is this about what happened at the bluff? You don't need to prove yourself to anyone, Anduin.  That was an attempt on your life, not something you should feel ashamed about."

 "I don't feel shame over that."

 "You're the crown prince of Stormwind. If you were to die it would have far-reaching repercussions."

 Anduin's eyes closed and he sighed. Jaina thought she might have convinced him but then he said, "Tess is going." If anything there was more resolve in his eyes.

 Jaina let out a slow, aggravated breath. Of all the ways Anduin was his father's son, Jaina liked the stubbornness the least. She thought about teleporting him away. If she left him in on the docks in Stormwind, he would be safe but very unlikely to return to Draenor before this operation commenced.

 Something of that resolve must have shown in her eyes because Anduin hastily backed out of her reach. He held his hands up, warding her off.

 "Listen to what I have to say before you teleport me anywhere. Please." Anduin continued to back away as he spoke.

 Jaina set her jaw and considered him for a long moment. "Go ahead."

 Anduin nodded. "I am going to be the King of Stormwind one day. I am not the warrior my father is. I'm not as useless with a sword as I once was, but I'm never going to be what he is." Anduin shook his head but there was a peaceful acceptance of what he was. It was a far different expression from the little boy who'd worshipped his father and somehow worried he wasn't living up to Varian's expectations.

 "I am not my father, but I will be King after him. And like him, my place will be with my people should it come to combat. I'm a priest. My calling is to heal and to shield. As much as you and I don't want war, as much as we would both prefer peace, there are times when it will be unavoidable. I believe Wrathion about the Legion, Aunt Jaina. I would prefer to face those threats with some experience."

 Jaina let out a long breath, jaw still clenched tight as her hands were around her staff. It wasn't the worst reason, but she hated it. Anduin continued before she could speak.

 "I have the hearthstone you gave me. It should allow me a quick escape to Dalaran where I will be in a position to alert for reinforcements should things go that badly." He smiled at her. "And I'll hardly be unprotected. Valeera has agreed to help watch my back as father has asked her to do on occasion before."

 Jaina looked over at the blood elf who'd swore herself to Varian's family line. The young elf had faced combat in the arena at Varian's side with Broll Bearmantle, the experience forging the three into respectable family bond. Even now she was alertly watching the area for threats.

 "And I think being with the Aspect of Magic and the Grand Magus of the Kirin Tor makes my odds a bit better. This is almost too easy if you think about it," Anduin said, his tone and expression turning wry.

 Jaina frowned at that. "Don't make light of this."

 Anduin sobered. "I'm not. I'm not untested. I've seen things before. Onyxia. Pandaria." both incidents fell from his lips like hammer blows."But this time I'm choosing to take the field on my terms."

 "I thought this wasn't about feeling shamed about the bluff."

 "I don't feel shame over that. Disappointed. Sad someone decided I was a pawn," he said, the word 'pawn' coming out with surprising acid. "But I've only ever been forced into these situations. It's different when it's your own choice. Better it be under favorable circumstances."

 Anduin inclined his head to Tess. "She understands. There comes a moment when we have to start growing up. Facing all the responsibilities that come with our titles so we might be worthy of them." He looked her straight in the eye. "You did it too."

 Jaina flinched.

 She could hear Rhonin's desperation as the manabomb fell.

 The screams as the people of Stratholme died

 The hollow voice, an echo of the person she'd onced loved, taunting her from outside the barrier around Dalaran.

 The sounds of the fighting on Theramore, both recent and long ago.

 The smell of coppery blood, burning cities, sea-salt spray and tangy arcane-tinged ozone.

 Jaina turned from Anduin and walked away, her heart beating frantically in her chest, stomach roiling from the memory and the sudden sense of shame for reacting to memories she'd put in her past. She'd been trained well as a Mage and sent to be her Master's eyes and ears, but she'd been baptized in the fires of war.

 Anduin shouldn't have to deal with such horrors! She acknowledged his experiences in Pandaria and with Onyxia, but that didn't mean he had to rush out into danger here and now. Only one thing had to go cataclysmically wrong for him to die! One unexpected moment or twist.of fate. He might have to face danger in the future but this was tempting fate now! Or, possibly worse, he might be hardened by such horrors as she was - tainted and ruined by life-

 "Jaina?"

 She flinched again as Kalec's gentle voice intruded on her memories of death and fears for tomorrow. His hand was warm on the hand the clutched her staff. Too warm. She opened her eyes and saw the thick layer of ice around her hand. Shame burned as Kalec's magic oh so gently unraveled her leaking power and dissipated it into harmless, gentle snow flurries. His hands then, with equal gentleness, uncurled her fingers from around the staff. He took the tool and set it aside with care. Jaina watched mutely while the clash of long ago battles rang in her ears. Kalec enfolded her freezing hands in both of his and began to rub warmth back into them.

 "I do not know I am fit to go," she said, her voice rough, as if she'd been screaming.

 Kalec kissed her fingers. "He struck with a low blow. I think he regrets it."

 Jaina sneered silently then immediately felt ill and guilty for her reaction though only Kalec saw. Hopefully. "The worst part," her voice caught and she cleared her throat then tried again. "The worst part is that he's not even wrong. War will come. It always does. The Legion or something else." Jaina closed her eyes and felt very, very tired.

 "Is it not better then for him to be prepared? Isn't that why Modera teaches her classes?" Kalec asked.

 Jaina grimaced again. "So much could go wrong."

 Kalec murmured wordless agreement, not denying her statement. Jaina wasn't certain if she felt better or worse. "What are you thinking?" Kalec asked. "I will back you whatever you decide, but we must be going quickly."

 "I want to spare him the danger. The heartache. The..." She could see the battles in her head, hear them, though the shock of instant, near simultaneous recall was fading. "The everything. He's seen some of it. He's been kidnapped and shipwrecked and... and he charged in to face Garrosh without a moment's hesitation." Jaina sighed. "I don't know what to think, Kalec."

 Kalec squeezed her hands. "He is precious but whelps must learn to fly and hunt eventually." Kalec frowned. "That saying sounds better in the original draconic. Humans have something about birds and nests?"

 Jaina smiled a little. "We do," she admitted. "He's not so little anymore is he?"

 "No," Kalec agreed.

 "If he dies, Varian will kill me."

 Kalec snorted. "If he dies it will be because everyone else has already died protecting him."

 Jaina somehow doubted Wrathion's people would lay down their lives before Anduin, but it warmed her heart to think Kalec maybe felt as she did.

 "If it comes to it," she said, "get him out. Then come back if you can, but Anduin needs to be safe above me. Above Wrathion." She looked up into Kalec's eyes, holding his hands tightly. "Promise me."

 Kalec rumbled deep in his chest as he met her eyes, so deep and blue in this form. Jaina met his unflinchingly. The black whelp was important to Kalec because he was a dragon, but Jaina needed him to take Anduin's life as a priority.

 "He is your claimed kin, center of my heart, which makes him mine. I promise I will see him safe." Kalec said, the truth of his words settling into her bones and washing over her spirit like a calm breeze.

 "I know what I am asking, Kalec. _Thank you._ "

 Kalec kissed her fingers then handed her staff back. Jaina took a long breath and let it out in equal time. Then she took a second. She rolled her shoulders, then squared them and lifted her head. If Anduin wanted to play with rank and title and the obligation of leaders to others then he would see her at her best, learn from her at her best. She packed away the horror and memories. The past could attend to itself later. _Now_ was all that mattered for their future.

 Jaina gathered Kalec with her eyes and a somber regality settled over her mate as he fell into step beside her. They returned to the group who'd been very busy trying not to overhear her discussion with Kalecgos and/or politely ignore her breakdown.

 "Anduin," Jaina called. His head snapped up and he straightened as little boy might when caught in some minor misbehaving. She fixated on Anduin, separating him from the rest of the group with only a gaze. Jaina looked down her nose at him as she walked closer, though not from the physical height difference she once enjoyed. Her experience as a veteran, as someone who'd lost, as someone who had fought and bled, as a leader whose actions had ultimately sent people to their deaths, gave her a towering height over the young prince, determined though he was to do good in an unforgiving and ungrateful world.

 His blue eyes grew very, very wide and he swallowed, perhaps beginning to understand the enormity of what he was actually going to do. That was part of battle that he'd not experienced, thrown into the thick of things as he'd so often been - the vague expectation of what was to come and the waiting and knowing that the only known was uncertainty and that there was a foe who wanted to see you dead.

 It was terrible knowledge. It was a hard lesson. She could see his uncertainty, his fear, possibly of reality, possibly of her - it didn't matter. Anduin straightened subtly, meeting the challenge, determination blazing like a fireband. He had taken the step onto this path, had begun to part a veil he'd only seen across in harsh glimpses. So then let him, too, see how leaders of the Alliance acted and learn that as well.

 "I have decided you may go, but there will be rules and you will follow them."

 Anduin nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

 Jaina turned to look at Right, Tess and Valeera. The three rogues stared back. Valeera grinned and took up and place behind Anduin's back. Right nodded and turned back to her people, snapping into action. Tess's carefully neutral, distant expression had cracked into surprise, but recognized the gleam as she watched... and learned.

 "And may the Light have mercy on all of us when Varian finds out," Jaina concluded.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin leads a small team into Highmaul to save Wrathion. Jaina finished a finishes a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get up. BFA launch too up a lot of time as I tried to bring my toons up to max level :D (I'm having such fun!)
> 
> Thank you to Jess for the beta work and to Auri for the feedbacks!  
> Thank you Gasel, Thessel, tty6, VividVert, Ryuujin, Fireglory, Deadly_Nighshae, Wec, and illidaddy1008 for leaving me comments!

The towering stone walls of Highmaul lay before them. Fires burned from the tall towers around the coliseum though it was full day. Jaina could hear the roar of the crowd inside as some match was fought. Beyond the coliseum the city rose on a hill. It was made even more impressive by having been built to the scale of the ogres. Once, this empire had been the dominant force on Draenor. It had suffered deep blows over the recent decades, and though there were cracks, it remained standing.

Its continued existence was, in part, due to the strength of the sorcerer kings. Jaina could sense their magic from here. Imperator Mar'gok in particular was a powerful mage. She could feel his presence in the aether as he chose not to rein it in or suppress it as the mages of Azeroth did. At least it gave her a good idea of where the more powerful mages were.

The leylines of Draenor ran thick and heavy under Highmaul. They included a small upwelling from deep within the world. Jaina could hear the power calling to her as she knew it must to the mages among the ogres. The spellcasters here would be plentiful and powerful. Highmaul had still stood because of this power as much as because of its strategic location on the high ground.

Jaina glanced over at Anduin, hooded and armored, and prayed to the Light that the boy would be safe. Valeera, at Anduin's elbow, caught her look and smiled back. Jaina couldn't return the smile and only nodded. Valeera would die before she let harm come to Varian's son.

The bulk of the raid was being allowed into the gladiatorial arena. Jaina watched them disappear into the dark stone then followed where the SI:7 agent and Tess were leading. The crowd above hollered as some great act of violence happened. Jaina tuned them out for now and turned her attention to the wards around the city.

The wards were placed thickly around Highmaul. Jaina and Kalec had several ideas on how to tunnel through them to allow for teleports out of the area. Zaliya's people had tested hearthstones and they could go through the wards, but the ogre mages noticed and egress was not as swift as it was before. More tests had been suspected in case the ogres found a way to lock out hearthing entirely. More conventional teleports and portals were possible but pushing through the warding was firmly in the realm of Archmages which meant their use was limited to strategic moments.

The current plan was to sneak in, find Wrathion, then get out as quickly as possible. They would teleport directly back to Azeroth once they were beyond the dampening field. Failing that, she and Kalec would rip through the warding and force a short range portal to lunarfall. Such measures might jeopardize the rest of the raiding forces so it was considered to be a last resort. The group slipped in through a crack in the wall, made larger by one of the Talons - a Dark Iron who had talents in shamanism. 

"Where now?" Tess asked.

"The Commander's spies believe he is being stored in a building on the eastern side of the city," the SI:7 agent said. "Stick to the shadows. Mages, if you feel safe to use spellcraft, please do so. This way."

* * *

Wrathion was not a happy dragon. It had taken most of the day to get over the poison in his system. He'd been placed in a cage with heavy iron bars. Trying to breathe flame on them had only made them warm. He didn't have enough space to change shape either. He'd been given water. It hadn't smelled drugged and thus far he'd not felt any effects. The same could not have been said of his people. 

The ones who'd survived, at least.

Left was drugged and chained in her own cell, but she was fighting the effects of whatever had been given to her. There was an ogre who came in on a regular basis and forced her to drink a noxious smelling potion. She'd been purging herself of the brew once the ogre was gone. It smelled worse coming back up, but the Ogre appeared not to notice. Some of the drugs stayed in Left's system though and she was not operating at her best.

Ventira had died in the field. The Ogres had done nothing to help her. The troll druid had been a good scout and fighter. She'd died in agony as she bled out. Wrathion could still hear her screams.

Proudhoof lived. Her head wound had bled profusely as head wounds tended to do. She'd been trussed up and stuffed in a cage with a bandage wrapped around her head. The bleeding had stopped but she, a trained healer, was fairly certain she was concussed. She'd tried valiantly to remain awake and calm, channeling what healing energy she could to keep herself conscious.

Most of her healing was being directed at Grey. The worgen had likewise been bound. His injuries had been internal and he had not regained consciousness. Proudhoof had been hard pressed to keep him stable once she'd regained consciousness in her cage, but she kept on, stopping only when the Ogre guards came in to give them water every few hours and to check they weren't escaping.

There was no sign of the hunters who'd been separated from the Talons, but Wrathion expected there wouldn't be. He'd lost one of his recruits from Taylor's garrison - the younger guard - in the initial attack. 

The older former guard, Adele Westen, had been savaged by the initial explosion as well. Her shoulder had popped out of its socket and she'd had to push it in herself. She was covered in lacerations which would become infected if not treated soon. The initial blast had stolen her hearing and it was only now coming back. She was probably the most able bodied person present but the Ogres had drugged her far more severely when the pain of fixing her arm had proven too much and she'd screamed, drawing their attention. The former lieutenant was in a filthy, drugged stupor, hands and feet tied.

Wrathion watched and waited, his senses straining for indications of what might happen next. He could reach one paw out of his metal cage and just barely touch the earthen ground if he shoved his whole side against the bars. He'd kept watch in that way, trying to discern the footprints, the patrols, the numbers around them by listening to the earth.

They were being kept alive for some reason. Wrathion doubted the others would have been treated even as minimally as they had been unless they served some purpose. 

They hadn't been kept long enough to establish any sort of pattern and the time they'd spent drugged and or unconscious made telling time harder. There was a single window high on the wall - high even for an Ogre. Only Wrathion had a chance of escaping through the small space between the bars.

That was the plan. When his cell was next opened, he was to try to escape. Wrathion would prefer to free Left and the others on his way out, but his bodyguard was absolutely adamant he leave on his own.

When he did, he would secure the device Kairozdormu had given to him. Left insisted he get free - such a prize could be recovered later. Wrathion had agreed with her but knew he would hunt it down on his own. Though... perhaps there was some wisdom in her words. He supposed he would make that decision in the moment.

Wrathion studied the small window. It would be a tight squeeze but he was still small enough he could do it. He could fly and he could breathe flame. The shadows moved, showing the passage of time. Each moment brought him closer to the point where he would need to act. He found he didn't relish the coming departure.

If he escaped, the others would almost certainly going to be killed sooner rather than later. When he left, he felt it would be the last time he saw any of his loyal people. The thought was more disturbing than he'd expected it to be.

Wrathion regarded what remained of his entourage. They'd given so much because they'd believed. Being killed as some ogre warlock's sacrifice or for the amusement of Emperor Mar'gok was less than they deserved.

There was a gladiatorial match going on above. He could hear the roar of the crowd and the Ogre guards had been quite keen on the matches in general. So when Wrathion felt the tremors of someone approaching, and felt it was just one guard, he knew his moment had arrived.

Wrathion sat back in his cage and waited for his moment. His Talons, the ones who were awake, tenses, ready to do what they could to allow him to escape. The crowd above screamed and howled. The door opened and the lone Ogre guard stomped in.

"Water time," the oafish brute said. He picked up the entire water barrel and began to painstakingly ladle out water to the various prisoners.

When Wrathion's turn came, the ogre had to open his cage. Wrathion blew fire into his face and leaped free. The ogre bellowed and flailed. Wrathion didn't quite dodge the heavy iron ladle. It clipped his haunch and sent him off course. A heavy backhand sent him spiraling to crash against the ground and he tried to brace himself for impact. Wrathion felt something twist in his front right leg as he hit the ground. He yowled, breathing fire and setting things alight. 

The pain didn't entirely steal his wits and he knew he needed to get out of there. Gathering his feet, he jumped into the air again, angling for the small window. His wings beat frantically.

A massive hand grabbed him from the air. Bones snapped and popped in his left wing following by searing pain. Wrathion yowled again, beyond words or reason.

"Down, beastie!" the guard said, shoving him back into the cage.

When Wrathion landed on his wing, the pain was somehow worse. He nearly blacked out and couldn't stop from crying out. He'd never felt agony like this. He turned to get a look at his wing.

"Quiet beast!" the ogre said, kicking Wrathion's cage and sending it tumbling across the room.

Wrathion's mind went white with pain for a fathomless moment. The agony he'd felt before was nothing compared to this. When he came to, he could smell blood but sound was weirdly muted. The Talons were struggling in their bonds, and the ogre appeared to be yelling at them. He brandished his ladle and fetched Left a blow across her temple, knocking the orc out cold. At least he hoped she was unconscious and not dead. Wrathion couldn't do anything but continue to vent his fury and agony. The ogre turned towards him with stupid anger in his eyes.

The door banged open with an oddly muffled thud. A shimmering barrier of gold fell into place, something flew forward and blood bloomed from both of the ogre's shoulders. The ladle fell from senseless fingers and the ogre bellowed.

Was this the warlock, come to save her ritual sacrifices? No, the color of the magic was wrong. A handful of thin, silvered missiles, identical to the first paired salvo, flew through the barrier and knocked the orc back, pinning him to the far wall. The missiles appeared to be hilt-less blades. The barrier fell away and Kalecgos rushed into the room, spellblades appearing in either hand. 

The older dragon spared a glance for Wrathion then blinked across the distance to the ogre stuck to the wall. With a snarl Wrathion could feel in his chest, Kalecos dismissed one of his blades then grabbed the ogre's head in one hand. There was a flash of brilliant energies and the ogre's head dissolved into purple ash, the rest of his body following.

His cage jostled and Wrathion couldn't stop the whimper. He tore his eyes away from the sight of the dissolving ogre and looked towards the cause.

Right! Thank the makers! 

He was carefully lifted out of the cage but still nearly passed out from the pain as he was moved. Beyond Right's shoulder, he could see a soft golden glow as a hooded priest tried to heal Left, a blood elf standing guard. Proudhoof was being freed by a dark haired human in leathers. Another woman he recognized as a SI:7 sniper was standing guard at the door, as was a mage in Kirin Tor armor.

"He's badly injured," Right said.

"We need to get them all out of here," the mage said from the doorway. Wrathion knew the voice but couldn't place t immediately. The others were likewise familiar but the thick haze of pain made thought slippery. 

"See to Prince Wrathion," Left ordered, irritable.

Wrathion couldn't stifle the pathetic yelp of pain as he was moved again. Kalecgos growled in reply then shortly entered Wrathion's field of view.

"Broken foreleg. Broken wing," Kalec assessed. "Anduin, can you ease his pain?"

"Can he set the bone?" Wrathion growled. He was surprised the human prince was here in person.

"I could set the bone but it would take some time. I've never set a wing," Anduin admitted.

"We don't have time," the mage said. 

Wrathion recognized, with some surprise, that Jaina Proudmoore had been convinced to come along. The pain faded as the glow from the Light filled the small room once more.

"If you've never set a wing before... When did it happen?" Kalec asked.

"Just before you arrived," Left growled. She was up and supporting Westin's weight. The human was still drugged but fighting it.

"Then ease his pain and a true fix will have to wait until you have guidance, Anduin," Kalec decided. "I'm sorry Wrathion, but you'll have to wait a bit longer."

Wrathion scowled a bit that a swift healing would not be coming immediately. The Light was called and while there was still pain, it became something manageable. The fog cleared from his mind as well.

"That should help," Anduin said when he lowered his hands.

"We cannot leave," Wrathion replied. He tried moving and sharp pain momentarily stole his senses. When the wave passed he repeated his command. "We cannot leave."

 

"We are leaving now," Proudmoore counterd.

"No!" Wrathion hissed back as he struggled in Right's arms.

"Yes," Proudmoore countered, her eyes flashing dangerously with power.

"I refuse! I have unfinished business here," Wrathion snarled.

"What is it?" Anduin asked, interposing himself between Wrathion and the unyielding mage. Proudmoore's expression was stone, but she held her tongue.

"The Traitor took an item of great importance from me. I must find it before we go anywhere!" Wranthion tried to wriggle into a better position and stopped as his broken wing protested. He bit back a chirp of agony. 

"What was it?" Anduin asked, his hands once again calling forth the calming Light.

Wrathion looked past Anduin to Kalecgos and Proudmoore. Either could probably teleport him easily enough once they got past whatever warding was surely around them - otherwise he'd already be back on Azeroth. Proudmoore's eyes hadn't lost their arcane glow. Wrathion judged she wouldn't be amenable to him but she might be overruled by Anduin and Kalecgos. The blue's cooperation was therefore necessary.

"It was payment for my part in the events at Xuen's temple," Wrathion said.

"What does it do?" Kalecgos asked.

Wrathion scowled. "I am uncertain of the details. That was the second half of the payment," he said, hoping the blue would not push.

"You wouldn't risk so much for something you don't understand," Kalec said, his eyes narrowing in a stern look.

Wrathion growled. It was hard to think when his wing felt like it had both fallen off and was swollen five times their proper size, even with Anduin's assistance.

"I know what the device looks like, your Highness," Right said, drawing everyone's attention. "I can look for it if you get the Prince out of here," she said to the rest of them. 

She began to hand Wrathion over to Kalecgos. Surprised by the action, Wrathion didn't struggle as the transfer was made. The blue tucked him under one arm like a ball and held him against his chest with the broken wing out. If he was being honest it wasn't entirely uncomfortable - but it was exceptionally embarrassing.

* * *

"I know what the device looks like, your Highness," Right said to the whelp. "I can look for it if you get the Prince out of here," she said to the rest of them. Jaina frowned. Kalec picked up the whelp as she'd seen him pick up others - a little bit like holding an unruly kitten.

"Alone?" Anduin asked.

"How important is this thing, really?" Tess asked.

The whelp turned his head to look at Tess, the smallest, piteous chirp escaping as the change in position shifted bruised muscles and broken bones. Despite her distaste for Wrathion she found her heart leaping to her throat, her hands curling into claws so she might tear into the ogres. The intensity of the feeling was shocking - enough Jaina missed the first thing the whelp said.

"- was payment." 

The surly whelp was still being evasive. Jaina narrowed her eyes and wondered why.

"Wrathion if you explain why it is so important we can help," Anduin said using the same exceedingly calm and diplomatic tone he'd begun to use with obstinate courtiers. Or his father. Or, on occasion, her.

The whelp gritted his teeth, tiny fangs gleaming against his dark scales. When he answered he panted between his words, clearly still in pain. "Kairozdormu was a bastard but he was gifted. That device is mine but I do not think any of us wants the Ogres to have it. Or the warlocks. Can you take my word on that?"

"No," Jaina answered dryly. 

"Why should we care if the warlocks get it?" Tess pressed. "Is this a pride thing or is it actually dangerous to us?"

The whelp wrestled with himself for a moment. "He was giving me access to time. He said I could restore the black flight. Uncorrupted."

Kalec made a pensive growling noise. Tess pursed her lips and considered that information. Jaina herself felt conflicted over Wrathion's plans, but the thought of the Ogres, of potentially the Shadow Council using such a device, chilled her. 

"I agree we don't want the warlocks having that," Kalec said. "Go," he said to Right. "You still have a hearthstone?"

"I do." Right said. "I'll find it, your Highness," she said to Wrathion with a small bow.

"I'll help," Tess said, falling in behind Right. "We can get it done fast then get out of here."

The SI:7 Agent, Amber, pursed her lips in thought, eyed Kalec, Jaina, then Valeera before she fell in with the princess.

"Let's go," Jaina said as the matter seemed to be settled.

The group left the cells, the healthy supporting the injured. They tried to be as silent as possible as they crept through the hall. The trio who would search for the device led the way. Jaina wasn't certain splitting up was wise, but neither was it an option for for them to leave such a thing with the Ogres. 

Couldn't they simply go back to Azeroth, inform the Bronzes and then have one of their own track it down? Jaina was about to voice the idea when Valeera dashed forward, her blades flashing in the flickering light of the torches. Tess was a beat behind her. Metal clanged on metal and blades were struck down. Jaina brought up a shield and another blade struck it at an oblique angle, the throw fouled by Tess and Valeera distracting their attacker - a gnome in dark leather armor.

Suddenly the gnome broke off. Tess took a few steps to give chase but stopped, wary. Valeera didn't follow. Right charged after him, passing both Valeera and Tess.

"Traitor!"

"Wait!" the SI:7 agent snapped.

"Keep moving!" Jaina said. "We have to make it beyond their wards."

"I can hold the shield," Kalec said. Jaina nodded and let him take over. She held a few combat spells at the ready as the whole group moved ahead at a trot.

They left the relatively cramped and narrow halls and ended up outside in one of the little courtyards. Right was fighting with the gnome, their blades flashing in the noon sun. Blood had already been spilled and Wrathion's bodyguard sported a long laceration across one thigh. The gnome was not unscathed as someone's knife had managed to get through his defenses. The head wound bled hideously and he had to wipe his brow to be able to see. Tess and Valeera exchanged looks. Jaina could practically read their thoughts: was this a trap?

A bolt of energy sailing from the doorway of another building seemingly answered that question. Right screamed as the bolt of energy hit her shoulder. The gnome dashed forward, blades drawn but had to twist away as Jaina's frostbolt connected. Tess and Valeera advanced and the gnome retreated in the direction of the shadowy magic's source.

From the shadows of the building stepped an ogre - the first female ogre Jaina had ever seen. Only slightly shorter than a male ogre, she had a single horn protruding from her forehead which she'd adorned with bands of gold and gemstones. Her head had been shaved save for a single topknot which was bound into a long, thick braid woven with more gold. Her carried a staff which had a massive bird's skull mounted on the end. Or perhaps it was an Arakkoa.

Supposedly they were as numerous as the males but lived more cloistered lives. Some of the milder rumors held the female ogres were the teachers and keepers of knowledge - including magic.

This one was clearly a warlock. Her grin was sharp as she unleashed another bolt of sickening purple-green energy with one hand. From her other hand, a beam shot out and connected with Kalec's shield. It did not get through so the warlock changed targets and hit Valeera who hissed when the beam clipped her shoulder. Jaina shifted her focus from Valeera to the advancing warlock. By now Tess had managed to drag a bleeding and furious Right back under Kalec's shield. Anduin lost no time in healing her injury. More ogre guards appeared and Kalec's shield was soon under attack from heavy clubs and weak magic bolts.

"Any chance we can still move?" Anduin asked the mages.

"If we move at a moderate pace I can keep this up," Kalec assured him.

"Good. Valeera! We're leaving!" Anduin called.

The blood elf disengaged from her fight with the gnome and retreated back towards the shield. She only got a few steps before the skies darkened. Jaina readied more spells against whatever this new threat might be. 

There was a roar from the coliseum. A voice called out over the city, enhanced by magic that made Jaina's skin crawl. "Destroy them all! Raze this city to the ground!" Then a second voice followed, saying, "The Stones will be ours! All Shall fall to Darkness!"

Well. That wasn't good. The first pale, gangly body slipped over the edge of the wall with malice in its eyes. Jaina unleashed a massive frostbolt, knocking it back where it came from in a shower of gore. More pale creatures followed, flowing over the walls and down the sides.

The warlock cackled. "And so my master comes!" She flung a heavy blast at Kalec's shield then turned and began to slaughter the ogres around her, ripping their souls from their bodies.

"We need to leave," Jaina said.

"I can probably rip through the wards," Kalec told her, "but I cannot do that and shield at the same time.

"I can shield us," Anduin said, already drawing on the power of the Light. "Aunt Jaina, if you can keep them off of us, we can get out of here." A look of peace crossed his face before it resolved into one of determination. A brilliantly glowing hemisphere of light surrounded them under Kalec's shield. Kalec let his shield drop, then began to murmur and conjure with one hand.

The pale creatures advanced on them, but slowly, wary of the Light shield.

"Take them down!" the warlock called, urging them forward. "Bring the dragon whelp to me. He is to be a gift and shall have to explain this oh, so delightful little trinket," she said, holding up a golden medallion on a broken chain.

"Well we know where the trinket is at least," Tess muttered.

The Pale surged forward and the warlock began to assault the shield once more. Anduin held firm as the first reached them, but how long could he hold? Anduin's expression became more strained as a group of the pale hurled themselves onto the shield only to be thrown back violently.

"Kill them!" The warlock ordered, urging another group of gangly wretches towards them. Her magic collided with Anduin's power and she heard him grunt in effort.

Growling, Jaina saw red. She quickly conjured ice lances and sent them sailing outwards with a slashing motion, clearing the pale immediately in front of her. As she stepped through the shield she sent a wave of arcane force out, knocking more of the pale creatures way, shattering their bodies. The survivors skittered away, giving her a wide berth.

How dare these creatures attack her people, her family?

Jaina brought her own shield up just as the Warlock's power reached her in the form of green-purple energy in the shape of a scream demon head. She retaliated with a massive orb of frost power. It sailed across the ground, chilling it and everything in its path. The orb collided with the warlock who didn't quite dodge out of the way. 

Unsatisfied with the amount of damage, she followed that attack by summoning the ambient water in the humid air into an angry cloud of ice and snow and pelted the area with sharp shards of ice. Another wave of arcane energy sent more Pale flying backwards. With some breathing room, Jaina summoned a fireball like the ones Modera had shown her. They were not as elegant as the elder mage's, but they would do. She sent one, then a pair, then three at once down range.

The warlock had some sort of arcane shield and she hid behind it. A moment later a dark swirling portal opened and several imps flew out with unholy glee. Jaina threw frost, fire and arcane energy at them while still trying to block most of the oncoming spells from the warlock.

"Be careful of your mana," Jaina could almost hear Modera warning her. She didn't know what the ogre had to draw on or what else she might be called to do. Furious with her limitation as much as with the gall of this impudent little warlock, Jaina snarled.

The two rogues suddenly appeared on the field, slaying the imps while the warlock cursed them all and began to dig deeper into her own bag of tricks. More imps, or perhaps the same ones, we summoned, along with the blobby, bobbing form of a voidwalker and a more imposing felguard.

"Take the voidwalker!" Jaina instructed while she formed a spell to attack the felguard. Arcane energy spun through the air and impacted the felguard - it slowed but did not stop. She'd let her guard down just enough, a burning beam from the warlock hit Jaina's chest. 

She felt as if all the air had been sucked away as she gasped. Her vision greyed out around the edges, dissolving into stars. Time seemed to slow around her as a hundred panicked thoughts all clamored for attention, urging her to flee or fight in some way. A memory intruded on them all, the painful moment of her death as the warlock's attack struck the same spot as the bullet had.

The moment ended as the shielding charm on the bracelet she wore, the one Kalec had given her for Winter Veil, flared to life, cutting off the warlock's attack and freeing Jaina from its deleterious effects. It had only been an instant, though it felt like an eternity. 

The felguard's polearm fell through the air towards Jaina as she returned to her senses. She dodges away, heart pounding in her chest. As fury burned away her panic, Jaina sent a twisting bolt of arcane of energy back at the warlock to prevent another distracting beam of foul magic.

Jaina retreated as the felguard advanced, terrible, gleeful malice in its beady eyes. Lips curling into a snarl, She attacked. Frost slowed the demon's movements, giving her time to wind up for a more hefty attack. Fury fueling her working, Jaina peppered the demon with fireballs, each hotter than the last. Though the demon's armor was tough, they began to melt into the monster. The demon bled dark green ichor but it pursued her, unrelenting, driven by the will of the warlock. Jaina froze the ground around them, her own footing sure. The demon slipped and slid a bit, but then it stomped down, cracking the ice and forging a path for itself. It swung it's weapon once more and Jaina dodged away, sliding across the thin layer of ice and ended up behind it. Grinning in triumph, she conjured lances of ice to emerge from the layer she'd set down. They impaled the felguard through the side, front and back, finally killing the demon and sending its soul back to the twisting nether.

Her heart thudding in her ears, Jaina turned just as another massive bolt of demonic shadow energy raced for her. Jaina blinked to the side, then again, ending up behind the ogress. She saw the shock on the warlock's eyes up close as she thrust a wave of power into the warlock, knocking her back. Jaina followed, blinking to her other side and striking her with a blast of arcane energy. The warlock retaliated, but Jaina was already blinking away.

This creature could not survive to use whatever the traitorous bronze had gifted to the whelp. The Shadow Council of this world would not threaten her Azeroth. Jaina glanced at the others within Anduin’s shield. The two rogues were fighting off the pale with the assistance of the more mobile wounded. Anduin was visibly straining under the assault of the pale creatures. Kalec was still not done with his work, his expression one of angry focus. She could feel him drawing on the leylines below them as he sought to rip apart the wards around the city which fed from the same power source.

"Kill them! Kill them all!" the ogress shouted. She was back on her feet again, summoning more imps. Behind her Jaina saw another wave of pale creatures flood over the walls. 

Jaina's attention fully snapped back to her opponent. The ogress was summoning more demons. Anduin could not hold on forever and Kalec, though she could feel him ripping down the wards, thinning the barriers, was trying to move a magical mountain created and maintained for centuries and fed by the same power he himself was trying to utilize. 

Power she could utilize. 

Drawing on one of the leylines below them, Jaina felt the strange mana of Draenor, so oddly unlike Azeroths, but familiar all the same. She caught a pale rushing her out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head just enough she could line up her spell, Jaina blew it away with a focused bolt of arcane power, the top half disintegrated into violet ash, the lower half falling to the ground.

Jaina pushed down the sudden sick feeling, the memory and pain that assaulted her with the image of Kinndy. She focused on her fury, at Garrosh, at the world, and at herself. She pulled on the torrent of power deep beneath the ground and began to let go of some of the ridgid control.

"This world, all worlds, will fall before the Legion!" The pale and the flood of demons surged forward in a tide of death toward those still protected within Anduin’s shield.

Jaina blinked in front of them and sent forth a wall of freezing power, encasing the front line in an icy wall. She clenched a fist and the ice bowed to her will, squealing and screeching as it cracked and shifted, crushing everything contained within even as it grew colder. She made a throwing gesture and the ice shattered, blowing away from her sending pieces of frozen water and bits of pale and demon into everything behind the wall.

She conjured more of Modera's fireballs and set them circling around her, a deterrent and a spell at the ready. Two embedded themselves in the faces of rushing pale. A third burned through the chest of a felguard. Jaina froze the ground then impaled the imps before they could melt it. She lifted a tall wall of ice around the shield Anduin held, leaving openings for the SI.7 agent to shoot through or for Valeera and Tess to enter and exit as they killed. 

There was a blizzard in the courtyard as the ground became coated with a thick layer of snow and ice, the air becoming hazy. She'd hardly had to summon it, the biting ice and snow had wanted to form around her. Pale who crept over the walls slowed as they were confronted with the abrupt change in temperature. They were picked off by knives, gunshots, or arcane missiles.

The ogress screamed her own fury. Jaina answered with a roar and a thick blast of arcane energy. The warlock dodged out of the way, barely in time. The blast left a smoking crater in the wall behind her the size of a large melon. She fled. Jaina blinked ahead of her and flung spellfire into the warlocks face. Screaming, the warlock twisted away and fled once more. Jaina blinked ahead of her again and blasted her with freezing ice. The warlock retaliated with a wild spell, but Jaina had already blinked away, hitting her from behind with fire. Then she attacked from the side with heavy, frozen bolts of ice, the blizzard intensifying around them. The pale ceased to attack, becoming flash frozen to the ground. Jaina hit the warlock from all sides, seeming to flow in and out of reality with precision, always hitting her where her opponent least expected it, each blow heavier and more devastating than the last.

Finally Jaina appeared in front of her and slammed her back with a bone-snapping kinetic force that sent her sailing into the air. Jaina strode over to the fallen warlock, deadly balls of star-hot fire spinning around her to be used at a moments notice, each a blazing point of light in the haze of the swirling snow and ice. Jaina drew on the rushing river of power below, feeling strangely connected and yet distant from her own body as she crossed the courtyard.

"Fools," the Ogress said, spitting blood. "Even if you defeat me, my master will claim this world for the Legion, then yours will fall. You are weak and pathetic creatures. You cannot understand the might of the Leg-" 

Jaina lifted a hand and disintegrated the ogre's head, cutting her off mid-word. Crouching down, Jaina searched the body for the device the meddlesome whelp had insisted they find.

She found it. A large medallion that looked as if it was made of tightly interlocked pieces. It hummed with the scratchy power of the Bronze flight. Turning from the body, she executed two Pale who thought they might take advantage of her distraction. She made way back to the half dome of golden light as the blizzard faded away like dew in the sun. The courtyard was quiet, save for the sound of her feet on the snow. The battle further beyond the walls was muted and distant. She stepped through the shield.

"Anyone hurt?" she asked, looking at Anduin first then at her mate then the rest.

Silently everyone else shook their heads, save Kalec who was deep in his spellwork.

"Help me," Kalec said, tone distracted as his focus was elsewhere. Jaina turned her attention to what he was doing and lent her power to his. Between the two of them, they were able to rip through the warding. Only then did Jaina release her connection to Draenor's leylines, feeling altogether empty, strange and perhaps a little bit sick. The little bit of Kalec's power in the shielding bracelet, her constant companion since the gift had been given, was missing now - expended in saving her from her own inattention on the battlefield. She rubbed at her runecloth-wrapped wrist. The armor was warm to the touch and smelled faintly of charred cloth. The silver and dragonscale bracelet shifted against the skin of her wrist.

Kalec opened a portal, the comforting power of his magic settling her after battle jitters. Valeera and the SI:7 agent went first followed by the injured then Anduin then her with Kalec following after.

She sighed as she felt her feet touch Azeroth once more. The ambient energy here was more familiar. Comforting. She drew in a breath of soft, fragrant air filled with pine and the last bits of winter's snow. This place was not one she was immediately familiar with, but it felt homey somehow. She felt herself beginning to relax, a deep, bone-weariness replacing the battle-ready tension.

"Uhm, they don't look friendly," Tess remarked, eyeing the large crimson dragons flying towards them.

"They're friends," Jaina reassured. They had to be, since Kalec had been the one to direct the portal. She surmised they'd been taken to the outskirts of the Red Dragonflight's territory.

"We have injured. One is a whelp!" Kalecgos called to the incoming red guardians. One paused in midflight, turning in mid-air in a sinuous way Jaina hoped one day to be able to do herself, and sped back towards the grove where more reds were rousing from perches, wallows and dens..

The other red landed, shifting shape into that of a tall, dark human with a mane of hair in box braids and two impressive horns rising above. His eyes were green-gold that remained the same from his dragon form. He took them all in with a look of concern then bowed to Kalecgos.

"I apologize for appearing so suddenly. Is she here?" Kalecgos asked.

"Grandmother is here, Spellweaver," the dragon said with another slight bow. "Come with me. If you can? I see many walking wounded."

* * *

Wrathion had seen spectacular things in his short life. The near death of the world, the rise and fall of Garrosh's empire, the death of his own flight and father, and the visions of the future.

In those visions he'd seen the Legion arrive and a united Azeroth, under one banner had risen to fight it. He'd contemplated his vision a length, trying to discern all he could so he could uphold his flight's Charge to protect Azeroth. He had determined that unity could only happen through subjugation, through strength of arms and martial might. His champions had been encouraged to fight to a swift end so the victor could settle their rule and then the true business of building a force able to stop the Legion could be forged.

Since his vision, he had been so sure, so certain. It had driven every action he had taken once he'd scoured the world clean of the lingering insanity of the Black Flight of old. But now... Wrathion was uncertain. He had witnessed something which called in to question his own interpretation.

Anduin had arrived to save him with unexpected support from stranch Alliance and alliance-leaning neutral powers. He had healed the wounded, regardless of their traditional affiliations in the faction war. It had been Anduin who had convinced the others to allow Wrathion's people leeway. When they had been attacked, Anduin had held the shield. And while he held it, he had directed those able to help fight off the gangly, pale monsters. His Talons had responded to his orders just as the Alliance who owed him fealty as Prince of Stormwind. He had commanded Proudmoore to attack his, and Wrathion's enemy.

A blizzard had raged and waves of enemies had crashed upon their shield, but Anduin had held firm, glowing in the unnatural darkness. A beacon. Calm and collected, with inner strength that never wavered... that called to those around him. The wounded had risen on their own despite the pain and had fought the monsters at the barrier with rocks and borrowed knives. Natural enemies had set aside their differences to fight a common foe. Two of the most powerful mages on Azeroth had flocked to his banner even though he was certain Proudmoore hated him and Kalecgos... tolerated him.

But in that moment, wounded and helpless, Wrathion had looked up in the the golden glow of the Light and was struck, utterly, by the sense of recognition, as the pieces fit together. 

He was looking at the single banner under which Azeroth could gather.

It defied all logic, all sense, every lesson Wrathion had been convinced was true. He had followed the Mogu, the mighty empire which had ruled Pandaria with strength and power. He had endured the nattering of Tong that he had somehow missed the lessons of Pandaria. He had been utterly convinced of how right he was. He knew he was still missing pieces, his understanding was incomplete somehow and this was annoying.

But what was even more infuriating was that he had come to the wrong conclusion. Oh, it was entirely reasonable and understandable why. Who would have ever picked the soft prince as the ultimate banner under which the world could fight? It made no sense! But Wrathion could not deny it was the truth. It was a revelation.

And yet... There was some component lurking under the surface. He could almost feel it. The Full Truth of how to defeat the Legion, just out of reach of his talons. The Prince of Stormwind had shed light on the path for Wrathion... but there was more to do somehow. There was a way he could support that.

The pain became too great and Wrathion was left without the ability to think more on what he was missing or even on his new revelation. He shivered as some of the biting cold conjured by their new pet frost mage made its way into the shield.... or perhaps he was more injured than he realized and he was dying.

It hurt too much to even think about that.

At least if he died then the pain would stop.

When Kalecgos began to walk, Wrathion was nearly beyond thoughts and words. His world was pain and suffering. They left Draenor and arrived on Azeroth and Wrathion began to feel better the moment Kalecgos's feet touched the other side of the portal. Now, finally, Anduin could heal him and he could get to work, because he was certain there was a lot of work to do, though the details were barely formed whisps.

There was discussion around him and the sounds and smells of more dragons. Fine. Whatever. He would be properly healed and then he could leave with his people.

Gentle touches on his back and the pain began to fade. A whine of relief escaped.

"Oh, little one. You've endured so much."

Wrathion froze. He knew that voice. Eyes flying open he looked up at the dragon who was tending to his wounds. Her. Alexstrasza. He tried hissing but it was anemic and wheezy. Her expression was serious. If she'd shone pity, he'd have risen and ripped her throat out. He growled a warning and snapped at her fingers as he tried to wriggle away. He was caught, captured. Kalecog was a traitor of the worst sort. A prisoner of the Reds! He would never escape! Just as he'd finally begun to make some headway, he would be caged.

Alexstrasza growled back, shocking him and freezing in place. It wasn't and angry growl (how did he know that?) but it did freeze him in place. A heavy hand held him down firmly but without additional pain.

"I am going to fix your wing, Wrathion," Alexstrasza said. "But if you continue to wiggle it will take longer. You do wish to fly again?"

Wrathion stopped wiggling, but he growled at her again.

Alexstrasza sighed. "When I am done and you have slept off the healing, you and I will have a long talk. But for now? Sleep."

Wrathion slept.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of battle. Varian has some words for Jaina, who has some words for Varian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Jess for the beta work. and thank you to Woldandwild for looking over the first part and giving invaluable feedbacks :D
> 
> Thank you to Slecnaztemnot, Gasel, Ava, Tamara, Ryuujin, illidaddy1008, Deadly_Nighshae, tty6, FireGlory and TheObsidianWarlock for leaving me lovely comments!

Despite the fact that the group from Draenor had appeared unannounced on their doorstep, the reds were gracious hosts. Anduin was helping to heal the wounded and learning from Alexstrasza how to properly set and heal dragon wings. Valeera and the SI:7 agent lurked nearby, vigilant but uncomfortibly aware that they were probably unnecessary in the heart of the queen of the dragon's home territory. The wounded were in various states of consciousness and each had their own dedicated healer. Red dragonkin ran about assembling human-sized bedding, fetching water and food and gathering items for the healers. Tess had found work with them, preparing some sort of potion or brew or salve. Kalecgos was with Alexstrasza, the two speaking quietly with one another while the healing progressed.

All of the hustle and bustle left Jaina somewhat at a loss - what now? She was no healer but supposed her alchemical knowledge was good enough she could help Tess. Yet despite feeling as if she should move, Jaina didn't. She'd ended up in a soft pile of long pine needles in a suspiciously cozy little space under one of the massive pines.

Jaina didn't feel entirely right. She was certain she wasn't hurt; one of the reds had given her a cursory look before moving on to the next patient. She'd managed to take off some of her gear, but hadn't done much else. She felt oddly distant from everything going on around her.

A shadow fell over her. Jaina looked up. A dragon who resembled the one who'd greeted them earlier, was there in a similar human form. Perhaps he was the younger dragon's older brother or even father. His horns were longer and more impressive, with the notches of healed wounds cut into the bone. He also wore the form of a human rather than an elf, but unlike the other dragon who'd worn a mane of box braids, his dark hair was close cropped. He wore lightweight, dark leather armor. There was a businesslike dangerousness that reminded her of Varian.

"Lady Jaina?"

Jaina blinked. This was, she realized, the second time he'd called out. To her, she realized.

"Yes?"

The dragon looked back at the activity then joined her under the pines, sitting down with a sigh. He brought out a bottle and two cups, unstoppered a bottle, poured, then handed her one. Jaina could smell the alcohol the moment the bottle had been opened. She took the cup and stared at the dark liquid.

"Is this safe for humans?" Jaina asked. It smelled potent enough to get a dragon drunk, which meant it might not be good for her.

"Safe enough," the dragon said. "But sip it. I'm Ravistrasz, Lady Jaina. Mother and my mate will sort out your companions. They're the best healers in the flight."

"Oh. Good." That was good for everyone who'd been injured to be healed. Even if she didn't like Wrathion, seeing him so grievously wounded had been upsetting.

"Take a sip," Ravistrasz suggested.

Jaina did. The potent alcohol seemed to explode in her mouth and burn all the way down. Even as she gasped, in surprise as much as for air, she felt warm and floaty.

"What were you fighting?" Ravi asked. "I'm one of the flight's Guardians. Call it professional curiosity," he added by way of explanation.

Jaina turned away from watching the impromptu triage area to look at him. He lounged against a rock, his cup held in one hand, with a sort of wary vigilance she recognized from any number of guards.

Jaina took another sip. This wasn't quite as bad as the first, though the difference was minimal. Shuddering she let the initial effects pass. Then she told the dragon about the Warlock and the Pale.

"We were heading out when some sort of darkening spell well over the whole city. The Warlock referred to her master arriving." Jaina frowned, thinking back to the thunderous voices. "Perhaps it was Cho'gall?" Jaina shook her head. "She mentioned the Legion."

The warlock had died mid-rant, dissolving into violet ash. She'd seen Kalec work the spell on the ogre that had hurt a whelp. It was... stunningly direct magic. Most Blue Dragon offensive spells were ornate, something which Modera had commented on. If they'd used such magic as Kalec had shown... Jaina shivered. It was magic she could do. Magic she'd done. It had been an execution. Was that why she felt oddly? Or was it just because she didn't have anything to immediately occupy herself afterwards?

Ravistrasz growled thoughtfully. "Do you think any of their people crossed over to here?" he asked, drawing Jaina from her own musing.

"That's a disturbing thought," Jaina said, frowning. "A breach has been made. To the best of my knowledge we have not permitted any Shadow Council members across to our world, but... Wrathion's people had a traitor." Jaina rubbed her temple.

This was something she was going to need to discuss with the Council as well as with Varian and Zaliya. It would also probably mean someone would need to have a conversation with Vol'jin. Jaina grimaced in thought and mentally assigned Khadgar that task if he could be spared from whatever the fallout of the Highmaul mission was.

"Spellweaver," Ravistrasz greeted Kalec. He smiled at Jaina. "Lady Jaina, thank you for your time." He stood, brushed some of the soft pine off his breeches, clasped hands briefly with Kalec then sauntered off.

"Jaina?" Kalec sat on the soft pine needles beside her. Jaina hesitated a moment then climbed into his lap. She wasn't usually one for overt public displays of affection but she wished to be close to him. She buried her face against his shoulder.

She was alive. He was alive. Anduin was alive. She was okay. She was going to be okay. She had used magic to kill but it had been quick and clean and it had been necessary. Jaina sighed and relaxed into his arms, the world becoming less distant. She didn't like she'd had to do it.

"Jaina, are you okay?" Kalec asked, leaning back so he could examine her.

"Physically." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "I'm fine, I think I just needed a moment to process everything."

"Do you wish to speak with Yu'len?"

"Her or someone else from the Shado-pan maybe. I'm... I didn't like executing her the way I did, but it... If she lived she would just bring the Legion to Draenor and Azeroth if she could."

Kalec rumbled soothingly and nuzzled the top of her head while one hand stroked her arm. "I think you made the right choice for what it might be worth."

"It is worth something. It isn't a position I like to be placed in, but I volunteered to walk onto that battlefield. I knew it could happen. I have killed with magic before. I just... don't like it."

Kalec sighed, long and tired. "Neither do I. You acted a bit better than I did."

"How?" Jaina asked, disbelieving.

"I should have better control of my temper where whelps are concerned, but I don't."

"I understand why, though."

"I don't even have the excuse of him projecting his emotions. I walked into Highmaul prepared for that."

"But you weren't prepared for him crying."

"No," Kalec said, almost sulking.

"Being angry because a whelp was hurt isn't a bad thing, Kalec," she said, poking his shoulder.

"No, but I should have been a little bit more restrained maybe. The spell I used was one I learned from my mother. She said never to use it in anger."

"It's powerful. I used it on the warlock. But do you think your mother would be displeased with how you acted today?"

Kalec snorted a dark laugh. "No." He nuzzled the side of her head. "Did I ever tell you how much Modera reminds me of her?"

"Oh my," Jaina said finding a little bit of humor. "We lived. We accomplished our goal. We didn't lose anyone on our side. But we did have injured. How is everyone?" She settled against his chest and let herself exist in his arms. It was such a pleasant place to be.

"They'll live. A few will be in recovery for longer than others but they will all recover. Wrathion's wing was very badly crushed. Even with Alexstrasza and Anduin using their abilities, he'll be awhile in healing."

Jaina snorted. "I don't imagine he's happy with that."

Kalec chuckled. "No." He held her closer, burying his nose in her hair. The small moment of levity replaced with sobriety. "I felt the magic discharge from your bracelet," he murmured.

Jaina sat back so she could touch his cheek and look him in the eye. "It did exactly what it was supposed to do," she told him. "Thank you for protecting me."

"Always." He kissed her forehead. "When we're home I'm going to reset it for you." He nuzzled his nose against hers. "I'm glad it kept you safe."

"Me too."

He hugged her more tightly, almost crushing her, but in the moment she was quite okay with being a little crushed. She was alive and the warlock wasn't.

"What do we do with the device he got from the rogue bronze?" Jaina asked after a long moment.

Kalec hummed thoughtfully. "May I see it?"

Jaina sat back in his embrace and pulled the medallion from a pocket, handing it over to him. Kalec turned it over in his fingers as he studied it in detail.

There was a "poof" nearby. Both mages looked up as a small adult bronze dragon appeared. There was some alarm from the reds as well as Jaina and Kalec, who both held combat spells ready.

"OH! SORRY! SORRY! Sorry I'm... I'm a few minutes off, aren't I? Sorry," she said, shifting shape to a smaller mortal form. She became a red-cream furred pandaren but kept the curling horns of her natural form. The spirals were adorned with little bits of jade and strands of gold. She waved. "Hi?"

A massive red in battle barding landed nearby. "Bronze." Jaina recognized his voice and horns- Ravistrasz. "You know the rules about appearances in the territories of other flights."

"Sorry, I'm really, very sorry. I'm just a few minutes early and-"

"Jiandormi!" A voice rang out across the clearing, cutting off the nervous younger dragon. It was more than just a reprimand, it was maternal. Ravistrasz and Jaina were not the only ones to wince in instinctive sympathy.

Alexstrasza approached, accompanied by a gnome. Or, to be more accurate, a gnome shaped bronze dragon. A mildly irate, gnome-shaped bronze dragon.

"Sorry, Mother. I was early," the bronze bowed her head, abashed. "I didn't mean to frighten everyone. I thought I was going to catch up... Now."

Chromie levelled a long, shrewd look at her daughter. The younger dragon smiled, a bit forced in Jaina's estimation. Given her size, she wasn't long from being a drake and was likely less experienced. Chronormu was not only a well-known and well-respected bronze, she was known to be one of their most talented... and she was this dragon's mother. Jaina could empathize with a someone living in the shadow of their parent and wanting to live up to them.

Finally Chromie snorted and shook her head. Turning to the much taller Alexstrasza she said, "Sorry about that, Allie. We didn't mean to set off your guards and cause a fuss."

"I imagine you're here for this?" Jaina asked taking the golden device from Kalec's hands and holding it up. Jaina got to her feet, Kalec following.

"We are," Chromie said, seriously. "Well, she is," she said nodding to the younger bronze.

Jiandormi waved her fingers when everyone looked at her. "Hi. I'm here for that if you don't mind."

Jaina glanced at the other dragons. Seeing no dispute she held the artifact out. Jiandormi hurried forward with light steps. "Thank you!" she said with a little bobbing bow.

"You know what to do with that," Chromie said.

"Mhmm," Jiandormi said, nodding her head rapidly. "I am on it!" She bowed to everyone present then stepped back, turned into her natural form, and disappeared with another poof.

"Well, that answers that question," Jaina murmured for Kalec's ears alone. He gave her a squeeze and laughed silently. Louder she said, "I don't imagine Wrathion will be happy his device was taken."

"I've got that handled," Chromie said. "He's not going to like it that Jia took it, but he'll get over it." Chromie frowned slightly, eyes unfocused. "Eventually. But for now that isn't something the blues or the reds need to worry about."

Chromie and Alexstrasza began to step away before Alexstrasza paused. "Wrathion should be awake again soon. We'll probably put him under again if he doesn't fall asleep on his own. If you wished to speak with him, you could but you'd need to be quick."

"I have a few words," Kalec said.

"Anything I have to say wouldn't be productive," Jaina deadpanned. she shook her head and rubbed her temples. "I should get Anduin and the rest back to Stormwind. Delays will just make Varian angier."

Kalec made a concerned sound. "Should I go?"

"No. No, this is something I'll endure," Jaina sighed. "Even odds Anduin or I will get the worst of it." She leaned up on her toes to kiss him. "I'll see you at home."

"Okay," he said. Kalec returned her kiss then lifted her hand and kissed her fingers in a soft courtly gesture that had Jaina smiling all the way to Anduin.

"We should get back to Stormwind," Jaina said by way of greeting.

Anduin grimaced. "Yes, we should."

Those returning to Stormwind were gathered and Jaina opened the portal, taking them in front of the Keep. She took a fortifying breath then followed Anduin inside, somewhat envious of the way both Tess and Valeera were able to disappear in plain sight in broad daylight.

* * *

Varian did not explode upon seeing them. His glare was heated and he loomed large and imposing, his jaw clenched, but he did not yell.

"Father-"

"We will speak later," Varian said, his voice was hard as stone, but his anger was simmering, for all the man was still. It made it worse somehow. Jaina had half expected him to be pacing like a caged beast. "I will be up to speak with you in your chambers shortly. Jaina. A word."

It was not a request.

Jaina preceded him into his office and braced herself for the storm to come once the door was closed.

"How could you?" Varian demanded, his voice the growling warning of thunder, the storm close on the horizon. "I am disappointed in Anduin's recklessness but from you of all people? Jaina, how could you?" Varian's voice rose with his temper as it finally spilled out. "My son was suddenly missing and SI:7 had to inform me that he was most likely on Draenor. When I sent someone to bring him home until proper protection could be arranged, I was told that he was in the field with the rest of the Garrison. Assaulting HIGHMAUL."

Varian had been stalking around his office, around her. Now he got into her face. "And THEN we came to discover that he was on some sort of clandestine mission to save that damn black whelp who helped enable all the problems we're having on an alternate Draenor in the first place!"

Jaina remained silent. There wasn't space for her to speak anyway.

"And now I find you were helping him?"

"I wasn't going to let him go in alone-"

"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE LET HIM GO AT ALL!"

Jaina winced and took a half step back. "Varian-"

"You could have returned him home in seconds and then done whatever foolish plan he'd concocted. You could have convinced him to stay in the Garrison. You should not have helped him go into enemy territory!"

"Varian, he was determined to go and-"

"If a child is dictating things to you, then perhaps you should re-examine your priorities, Archmage."

Jaina glared. "Anduin is not a child-"

"Anduin is not an adult, and-"

"Yet," Jaina cut him off, the word crisp on her lips. "Anduin is not an adult yet, though he is very nearly of age."

"He is a minor."

"He has seen more than many young men his age have seen."

"He has nearly died," Varian retorted, teeth bared.

"Kalec and I were there and some of your shadows besides. Tess Greymane was there!" Jaina interrupted him again.

"Tess Greymane is an adult. How Genn handles her isn't my business. Anduin is my business and he should not have been in that situation."

"He wanted to learn. He needs to learn what it's like on a battlefield," Jaina interrupted him again. "Because one day you might get your fool head caved in by someone's axe and then where will he be?"

"It is not your decision to decide what he learns or when or how!" Varian roared. "You are not his mother!"

"I know that!" Jaina snapped back. He was the best she was ever going to get, but he wasn't hers, and she knew that. "But I'm also not so caught up and emotional about him I cannot see when he makes a good argument for his own education in controlled circum-"

"Controlled? Controlled? The entire city was overrun by monsters! I have the first reports right there!" Varian made a sweeping gesture to his desk. "The Shadow Council appeared and plunged a full league around the city into unnatural darkness!"

"Varian-"

"No! Jaina, you have overstepped. He is the sole heir of Stormwind. Did you even stop to consider what his death might mean?"

"I know exactly what his death would mean to the kingdom and to you," Jaina said, in a more gentle tone, trying to talk him down. It was offensive he didn't even consider how much she had warred with herself, or how little he seemed to think she cared.

"No, you don't," Varian snapped back, his voice low and dangerous. "Maybe, if you had-" he cut himself off, but the verbal dagger had been sunk.

"Finish that sentence," Jaina ordered him, dared him. A sneer had made its way onto her lips, her eyes narrow.

"Maybe if you had children of your own you might understand," Varian snarled back in challenge.

"No, because Arthas chose to be a monster. You know what else I don't have? An apprentice," Jaina snarled right back at him. She took a step forward. "An entire city of friends and family who chose to stand by me. Do you know why?" she demanded of him, advancing another step.

"Because of you. Because of you and everyone else in the Alliance who couldn't stand down. Because the conflict never ended in your heart, it never ended in theirs and every single person in Theramore paid the price." Jaina's fingers curled, wanting to become the claws that could rip and tear.

"Do you know why Anduin wanted experience as a Battlefield healer? Because he knows there is going to be another war. He is going to inherit a bloodsoaked kingdom of people who want vengeance for the dead just as much as the Horde does." Jaina continued to advance on him. The lines of Varian's face terribly clear, the way his jaw clenched, the fury that still lurked in his eyes.

"I have been more reasonable-"

"HA!" Jaina laughed, the sound echoing off the walls of the office like a gun rapport. "You decided on your own, at your leisure. One day you decided, 'hmm perhaps I should try this not killing everyone allied with the Horde' thing my son has been speaking about."

"Jaina-"

"No." Jaina waved a hand and silenced him with a spell. "You have talked over me. You have ordered and directed and I have listened and been a dutiful friend and subject as part of the Alliance - but you get to listen to me now. If you can."

"You listen to Anduin, but not me. Not when I have been saying the exact same thing for almost two decades now, Varian. You decided when it was convenient for you. Well, I'm sorry but that wasn't terribly convenient for Kinndy." Jaina eyed him up and down and knew she was sneering but didn't particularly care.

"I wanted to send Anduin home. He convinced me not to. He's not a baby anymore Varian. He's twice the diplomat you have ever been at your most charismatic and has a far cooler head and handle on his emotions than you have ever had in your entire life." She glared at him for a long moment.

"If Anduin were here, you'd listen to what he had to say about today. I bet you're already thinking about what you want to say in retort and haven't given anything I've said a moment of thought."

His eyes widened a fraction, confirming her words. She didn't stop the derisive sound of disgust. "How could I? How dare you question my love for Anduin. How dare you neglect his learning because you're afraid."

Varian opened his mouth but no sound came out. "You are afraid," Jaina said, knowing what he'd been about to say. She was hitting him in his pride, possibly irreparably, but there was a fury in her heart that roared in anger for battle.

Jaina faced him square on and looked down at him. "You have lost but aside from Tiffin and your father, your losses have been restored. I've had everything taken from me, Varian. Kul Tiras. Theramore. My mentors. My friends. My family. My future with sons and daughters and the life I was supposed to have. Everything. And you have the gall to tell me I don't understand your fear of loss? I have already lost more than you could ever know."

She shook her head, disgusted. "You sent him to his room like an errant toddler." She released her silencing spell with a wave of her hand. "I'm done talking to you right now. Go tell Anduin he's grounded and can't have dessert. I'm done with this."

She turned and pushed the doors open. A wide-eyed Anduin, Valeera and Tess scrambled out of the way. The guards hurried out of her path.

"Jaina-" Varian said behind her.

"I'm done," she snapped, not looking back. She stalked down the hall, servants and guards scattering before her, a trail of ice following in her wake.

Anduin caught up to her when she reached the courtyard. "Aunt Jaina-"

She stopped, took a breath and let it out. Softly, she said to him, "If Kalec comes looking for me, would you please tell him I've gone to Kun Lai." She teleported away before Anduin could say anything else.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been such a long time! I've had a lot to do at work and this was a surprisingly hard chapter to write. Thank you for cheering me on Jess and Auri. Blizzcon 2018 is this coming weekend and I will be there so I doubt there will be any progress made for a couple weeks :)
> 
> Thank you to MSG1000, Deadly_Nighshae, StarBlaze24 (RevanKazama), Ryuujin, Jthorsten, Tamara, illidaddy1008, evilpinkpen, tty6 and FireGlory for the comments!

Wrathion and the rest of the injured had been placed in a pavilion where they could be overseen better for the duration of their stay. The structure was built in the style of the night elves and was nestled under a pair of the towering redwoods that thrived in the Red Flight's territory.

Right favored him with a gimlet eye as he approached the whelp. Though healing had been applied to his wing, Alexstrasza and the other healers had determined that it needed to be splinted for a few days to ensure he didn't lose range or mobility in the limb. 

Wing injuries in the young were especially worrisome. A badly healed break could require re-breaking the limb or lead to weak flying. The whelp's forelimb had also been splinted for good measure. The brace on his foreleg wasn't so bad but the contraption on his back looked awkward to say the least. They'd strapped him into a sort of harness which sprouted adjustable arms and wing-like boards. The mended wing was stretched out to the side and held in place, firmly but gently, by the contraption. Wrathion had been placed in a shallow nest of pillows, his wing supported by more pillows. The whelp's chin rested on the rim of his pillow nest and, while he had a somewhat glazed expression, he looked less than thrilled with his lot in life. Wrathion perked up a bit as Kalec walked over and sat down.

"What?" Wrathion snapped.

"I came to check in on you before I left and I thought we might talk," Kalec said.

"And what do we have to talk about?" Wrathion hissed.

"Have you given any thought to our last conversation?" Kalec asked him.

"I have had more important things to do than ponder your word games," Wrathion said. He snorted contemptuously. "Why do you even care?"

Kalec sighed. "They were going to give you to the Shadow Council." He continued before Wrathion could interrupt him. "The Shadow Council might have killed you or they might have given you to their masters. To the Legion. The very group you claim to be guarding Azeroth against."

Kalec paused in case Wrathion had anything to say about that. The whelp's eyes didn't quite meet his own and he sank into his little nest, apparently with nothing to say.

"I've been trapped and tortured by the agents of the legion before. It was..." Kalec trailed off and shuddered at the memory. "It was painful. Awful."

"And what is the point of telling me this? Why expose your own weakness  _ Spellweaver _ ?" Wrathion sneered.

Kalec scowled. "I needed help to win free of their influence. Sometimes we need help when the enemy is that powerful. Deathwing drove us apart. The flights kept to themselves and we were nearly defeated. We reached out to one another and to the others on Azeroth and we won."

Kalec paused, waiting but once more the whelp seemingly had nothing to say. 

"We aren't in a good place right now, Wrathion. Dragons aren't. We need to stick together. All the flights. That includes you. We lost something when Neltharion was lost to the old gods and became Deathwing. That's why they did it, to break us."

Wrathion remained in stony silence. Kalec then understood he was being ignored. He snorted, annoyed. "You may be just one black dragon, but that's  _ something _ ." Seeing he wasn't getting anywhere today, Kalec shook his head and rose. "You don't need to do everything on your own. You could have help if you asked. The Shadow Council isn't something I would wish on any dragon, but I saved you because it was the right thing to do."  Turning, he walked away from the sullen whelp.

 

* * *

The peaks of Kun-Lai were always covered in snow. Jaina appeared in a knee-deep drift, the chilly winds tugging at her unbound hair. Burning with rage, Jaina drew on her power and made the shapeshift, her fingers curling into the claws they'd longed to be when she'd fought with Varian. Her tail thrashed behind her, making tidal waves of snow. Unfurling her wings she gathered her feet and launched into the snowy air with a roar.

How dare she?  _ How dare she?  _ Jaina snarled as she flew higher, eyes set on the next peak. She'd given up more than he  _ ever  _ had and he had the gall to question her? Jaina crested the sharp peak then kicked off of it, flying still higher.

Anduin wasn't a baby! He needed to learn and he was damn well going to do it on his own. He already was going about it on his own! She'd caught him sneaking back into the castle from the outside parapets! And Varian probably knew nothing, the blind, arrogant asshole!

A gust of wind hit Jaina from the side and knocking her off course slightly. Roaring fury, Jaina's tail lashed, her wings turning so she could ride the errant wind still higher into the mountains. She idly noted the caravan of laden yaks on the thin path below her as she flew around another jagged spire of rock and ice, but she had her sights set higher.

She'd had a future once, but another arrogant man had discarded her and taken that future from her. Jaina felt fire in her chest as she thought of Arthas. He was a selfish, weak-willed betrayer. She had loved him and he'd thrown it back in her face. She was no strumpet to be cast aside! (and yet he had). Chest blazingwith inner fire, her wings beginning to burn with effort, Jaina continued her furious race to the top of Kun-Lai summit.

Varian had stopped himself, but then had continued on anyways, knowing he was being cruel. Jaina snarled as she landed heavily on a rocky outcropping shy of the summit. Her tail thrashing, she panted as she stomped the rest of the way to the top of the mountain. Once at the top, she  set her paws on the peak and glowered over the horizon. She took in a deep breath and roared her frustration out across the world.

She was out of breath quickly this high up. Panting, she hung her head and listened to her own voice echo down the mountain. The fires of anger had burned low, leaving her feeling cold and empty. Jaina sniffed, then hiccuped as she fought back pathetic tears. The thin air was cold here and her wings ached. She wondered if she should just teleport out. Tears stung her eyes and she wiped at her face with the back of her wrist. Sniffing again, Jaina cried silently on the mountain peak.

Eventually, a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye drew Jaina's attention from her mountaintop moping. Kalec ascended through the swirling winds on strong wings. Jaina shifted her weight on the peak, feeling a confusing mixture of anger, shame and relief at seeing him. Kalec landed just below her, large enough he was almost at eye level.

"Jaina, are you okay?"

"Yes... No..." She shook her head. "I'm furious and sad and angry." Growling, she hunched over and scowled into the distance.

"What happened with Varian?"

Jaina gritted her teeth, tail lashing. "He was being  _ Varian _ . Uncompromising. Stubborn. Cruel."

"Cruel doesn't sound like Varian," Kalec said gently.

Jaina's tail lashed again as she hunched further inwards. "He can be. He doesn't let the feelings of others get in his way when he thinks he's right, even when he's wrong. He'll say things and won't give a damn about anyone else." The words came out bitter and sharp. She thudded the club of her tail against the mountain and snow fell behind her.

"Jaina," Kalec tried again, trying to calm her. 

She did not feel like being calm. With a snort she threw herself off the top of the mountain and into the swirling winds. She heard Kalec follow, which warmed her heart, but she was still a storm of emotions looking for ways to escape. She led the way down the mountain, twisting between the smaller peaks of Kun-Lai and curving around towards the high mountain plateau where the Shado-pan monastery was.

It was easier to breathe down here, though the winds were cold and harsh. She'd flown hard and soon the ache in her wings couldn't be ignored. She landed messily in a hanging canyon beside a stream which fell into a spectacular, ice-encrusted waterfall. Ignoring the view, Jaina stomped well away from the stream. She found some pines and resumed her natural shape, staggering a few steps after the change but refusing to fall to her knees. The cold wind ran fingers through her hair. She sent out a few slashing spells, severing some of the lower pine branches. She hauled them out and to the side then sat in the little hollow she'd cleared, her knees brought up to her chest.

Kalec landed in the snow behind her a short time later, the blue of his scales reflecting the white around them. He looked magnificent. He'd been something not unlike a god among the dragons, a fact she was reminded of as he walked towards her, massive and imposing at his full size, larger than most adult dragons, because he'd been gifted a mantle of power. He shifted shape, becoming the half-elf form he favored, doing so between one step and the next. She couldn't do that yet. He ducked under the snow laden boughs and gave her a small smile as he crawled into the den with her. Wordlessly he held out an arm as he had in the Red's territory when they'd sat under pine boughs mere hours ago. It felt like days.

Eyes burning as the tears threatened again, Jaina crawled into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder. He conjured a cloak and pulled it around them both once she'd settled into his lap, her chest to his. He rubbed her back and held her as she cried.

When Jaina could cry no more she lay against her mate's shoulder in a miserable heap. He continued to stroke gentle fingers over her back and through her hair, combing out the windswept tangles and bits of pine.

"Do you want to talk about what Varian said? Would that help? Do I need to go fight him or something?"

Jaina leaned back. "What? No!" She scowled when she saw he was gently smiling in jest. Sighing, she laid her head against his shoulder again. He kissed her forehead and waited patiently. He was so patient and good and she was so very lucky to have him.

"He was angry. He asked how dare I put Anduin in harm's way. He all but accused me of not caring for Anduin and asked me if I had stopped to consider what his death might mean," Jaina told him. "He didn't care that Anduin was determined to go, or that Anduin feels he needs greater training so he's going to go out as he damn well pleases because that boy is just as stubborn as his damn father, or that it was a good thing you and I were there to supervise this little excursion," she said, snapping. She breathed in and out, she would not fall into crying again. "How could he say I don't care, Kalec? And-" she broke off, shaking her head. The back of her throat burned with holding her emotions in.

"He said some other offensive things," she said, eventually. "Picked at some old wounds. So I let him have it. I went so far as to silence him and he wasn't even listening to me then! But I told him off all the same."

"What did he say?" Kalec asked gently. "Would talking about it help?"

"I don't know." Jaina huddled closer. "It's stupid and maybe I overreacted."  _ Again _ , a small voice said and she rolled her eyes at herself.

"I haven't seen you overreact, Jaina. I have seen you lash out when you have been pushed past your breaking point, but I wouldn't call it an overreaction," Kalec told her. "Did he bring up Arthas or Theramore?"

Jaina sighed. " _ I  _ brought up Theramore. I told him he only decided to be more moderate when it suited him. I said his more moderate stance now wasn't terribly convenient for anyone on Theramore when Garrosh attacked. Because Varian kept hating, his people did. The Horde did. It never ended and it allowed Garrosh to become what he did."

Kalec made a thoughtful sound but otherwise remained silent. Jaina debated about the rest, but speaking of it with Kalec made her chest a little bit less tight.

"He also said I had overstepped. I wasn't his mother and couldn't make those decisions for Anduin. And then..."

"And then?" Kalec prompted when she'd trailed off.

"He said I couldn't understand his fear because I didn't have children of my own. And the worst part was that he started to say it then stopped himself. I dared him to finish... and he did." She shook her head. "And it's stupid because I made peace with that a long time ago, it shouldn't upset me, but  _ he said it even knowing it would hurt me _ . And he had the  _ gall  _ to say I couldn't understand his  _ fear of loss _ when I have lost  _ everything _ compared to him." She sniffed. "And that's being unfair because I haven't lost everything. I still have my life and my magic. I have Anduin and Vereesa. I have you now, and you mean more than I can say."

"But you  _ have  _ lost much," said gently. He hugged her close while she cried again. He pet her hair and stroked her back. 

Eventually she settled down again, listening to the faint thump of his heart and the creak of the trees in the wind. "I miss Kinndy," Jaina whispered.

"She was a lovely young woman," Kalec said. "You were training her well."

"She didn't deserve the end she got."

"No, she didn't," Kalec agreed.

Jaina kissed his cheek then tucked her head under his chin, curling away from the cruel world for a little bit. Kalec's arms tightened around her and it helped ease the fist around her heart a little more. The fury had relented. In its place was an empty melancholy and the memory of what had been said in Stormwind.

"What are you thinking about?" Kalec asked some time later.

"I'm replaying the argument in my head and wondering if I have irrevocably damaged my relationship with Varian."

+"I doubt that," Kalec told her. "I imagine he is equally angry with Anduin."

Jaina grunted acknowledgement. Her knees were getting cold as the snow melted and absorbed into her armor. Between the fight with the warlock, multiple portals and a full shapeshift, it was a wonder she had any energy at all. Her fury wasn't able to keep her warm any longer, leaving her with just the exhaustion.

"Please take me home, Kalec. I want to get out of this armor and have a good soak."

"The big tub in Dalaran then?"

"Mmhm," Jaina replied, sleepily. "I should probably speak with Healer Yu'len but I don't want to do that right now." She would, she needed to for her own health and the prospect of speaking with the healer didn't feel like failure on her part she was glad to see. That was progress wasn't it? But right now she just wanted to wash the day away.

Kalec kissed her forehead again then got them both standing. He politely held the lowest boughs up so her hair wouldn't catch on the pine needles, then teleported them to Dalaran.

 

* * *

Kalec brought them directly through their personal wards and into their parlor. Jaina leaned heavily against his side as he walked with her towards their bathroom. She smelled of pine and high winds and the sweat of battle and underneath it all was just her. It was an altogether wonderful and enticing scent but his mate, his first in love, did not need him pawing at her. Sitting heavily on the bed with a small sigh, Jaina began to unwrap the protective runecloth around her forearms. Some of the spellthread was charred through use. Better the cloth than Jaina.

Kalec set the bath running with hot water and some of the oils she liked then set fresh towels on the warmer. Returning to the bedroom Kalec knelt before Jaina and began to undo her boots. In another time they might have become very distracted with one another and run the risk of the tub overflowing, but he reminded himself Jaina didn't need that sort of intimacy now. Perhaps later. Right now his mate needed a nice soak to wash away the battle, then food to replenish the incredible amount of energy she'd used. Then she probably needed an early night's rest. While she slept he would recharge her shield bracelet.

Kalec ran his hands up her calves. He rested a chin on her knee. "I'm going to make some dinner while you bathe. Want me to bring you some wine?"

Her fingers went through his hair and Kalec leaned in to her touch. "I think if I have wine I'll fall asleep in the bath. Maybe with dinner."

He kissed her palm. "Okay. Go soak." He rose up and kissed her lips. She stopped him before he left, her hand snagging his, fingers curling around his.

"Kalec." She squeezed his hand and rose, going onto her toes so she could kiss him, her hold on him remaining tight. "I'm so glad I'm here with you, beloved."

He held her tightly feeling the tension in her back and shoulders. "As am I, my lady," he murmured back to her. At least the universe hadn't cruelly torn her from him just as they'd formed this lasting partnership. As irrational as it might be, he wasn't letting her leave home without the bracelet charged. 

"Come on," he said, coaxing her to follow him into the bathroom. He helped her step into the tub then left her to sink into the water with a sigh.

It was very tempting to join her. She was his now, fully, as his heart belonged to her, but because he loved her he turned away to make dinner. Once they'd become intimate it had been easy between them, but they were first in love to one another and that was new and exciting. Kalec figured he could be forgiven for his current tendency for his thoughts to wander in that direction. There would be time for more of that later. Currently he had to provide a meal of his mate. It wasn't the same as hunting but it scratched that primal itch. Taking stock of the pantry, Kalec set to work.

 

* * *

Anduin watched Jaina depart in a flash of arcane magic. He imagined she would go visit her healer and while he was glad she had a healer to see, it made him sad to see her go and angry because of why.

They'd heard everything.

Anduin. Tess. Valeera. The guards. Most of the staff by now. Anduin closed his eyes in empathetic pain. Neither party had been the least bit worried about their voices carrying - and carry they had. The staff wouldn't speak out of turn  _ outside  _ of the castle but  _ inside _ ... Anduin took a breath in then let it out at length.

The things his father had said shamed him. The pain of that shame burned in his heart and made him feel sick. He knew his father wasn't a perfect man, Varian would have been the first to say he wasn't, but the verbal blows struck against Jaina were not the sort of thing a King should ever say to a loyal ally... and  _ never  _ anything a friend should have said.

"Well... That didn't go as planned," Valeera said to his side

Anduin nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd not hear her follow him nor seen her.

"Sorry. We didn't mean to scare you," Valeera apologized.

'We' meant Tess was lurking about still, and- In an abrupt flash of insight, Anduin suddenly understood  _ how  _ Tess had come to hone this particular set of skills; she and Valeera didn't know one another because they had similar skill sets, Valeera had a hand in teaching Tess. It was... obvious and Anduin wondered both how he'd managed to miss putting the pieces together as much as he wondered what had led to that sort of training - but those questions would have to wait.

"I knew he'd be pissed, but that was low," Valeera muttered, shaking her head. "So what now? Need backup?"

Anduin looked at her in surprise and confusion at her offer. "Backup?"

Valeera shrugged, looking a little lost but trying to hide it. "Yeah. We all heard everything. If Varian wants to be mad it's not just Lady Jaina he should be angry with. So if you're going to confront him, do you need backup?"

"And it's not like you went out alone or something," Tess said as she stepped out of the deeper shadows and took up a bit of wall nearby. She too was crossing her arms and frowning. " _ He _ should be teaching you anyway."

"I know," Anduin said with an aggrieved sigh. "I know. You're off learning how to be more effective, I should too." He felt so  _ behind _ . He had so much to live up to and so many people counting on him to be a good, wise, informed and capable king.

Tess snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah but all of that is  _ my  _ doing. My choice." She fixed Anduin with a look. "Your dad has been the one doing most of it. Well... the more... rulership bits."

That admission brought Anduin up short. "Huh? Really?" He'd known she lurked about in their meetings and was allowed to sit in on things sometimes - but he'd assumed Genn had sent her in his stead or invited her alone. Most people did, he imagined. She was Genn's heir. It was expected.

"Really," Tess said flatly. "He even got a bit growly at the start when he found out how much I didn't know. I wasn't that much older than you are now and I got the impression he felt I should have known much more, already."

Anduin blinked. "What?"

Tess rolled her eyes again, and, strangely, so did Valeera. "Heir and a spare, Wrynn," Tess said. "I was the spare but I'm a Gilnean Lady and I think you understand by now that means there were more limits and different expectations. I can run a manor and I had a decent education because that's proper somehow, but no lessons in greater scale economics, law, speech writing, how to handle nobles as Ruler to Vassal rather than as a high lady, war, foreign diplomacy," she trailed off waving a hand. "Not that we had too much foreign diplomacy outside of the occasional merchant from Kul Tiras. Doesn't matter. Point being, I was excluded from the meetings and apprenticeship training Liam got, that  _ you  _ got, because they didn't think I would need it. And now that I do, Father is... stuck."

"And my father has been giving you lessons and training since you were my age," Anduin said, more as a statement than question of clarification.

"Couple years older and informally, but yes," Tess clarified then looked slightly sheepish. "He didn't include combat," she admitted.

"That's me," Valeera said, cheerfully. Her expression, though still a smile, grew far more deadly. "Though I personally think what Genn doesn't know won't hurt him and Varian has... extensive plausible deniability."

Anduin gulped. "Ah. Yes." 

"So what are you going to do next?" Tess asked.

"Well... Let me think a moment..." Anduin trailed off. Valeera perched on the back of a nearby bench. Tess slouched into the actual seat, both apparently content to let him think.

What would he do? He needed Aunt Jaina and his father to reconcile. He'd not seen his father that angry in quite some time and Jaina... Well, he'd seen her very angry more recently but there had been something  _ raw  _ about her tirade. It had been a deeply personal moment and it had been uncomfortable to be present for it. Anduin could practically feel the depth of her pain.

He wasn't wrong in that he needed to learn, needed to experience more of the world. Jaina and Kalecgos had both been there to shield him from the worst of it. His father was being entirely unreasonable. Wasn't he? Anduin leaned forward in his sea, elbows on his knees, and tried to put himself in his father's shoes. 

He was Varian Llane Wrynn, the High King of the Alliance. Stubborn and intractable as a stone wall, who always had the right answer even when he was wrong and damn everyone else- No. That wasn't right. Anduin sighed to himself. He wasn't being fair. Yes, his father was stubborn. And Maybe Anduin had some of that stubborn too. But he wasn't immune to change, just... slow. Anduin tried again.

He was Varian Wrynn, King of Stormwind. Leader of a city that had been sacked, lost and regained in his lifetime. He'd seen utter ruin and had built his nation to stand strong and now it stood alone, thriving, when the other human Kingdoms on the continent had fallen... or relocated. He'd become the sword and shield of his people. He had fought the Horde, Arthas, Onyxia and Deathwing. He was respected by his peers. A warrior of renown. Fearless in battle!

Except... That wasn't quite right, was it? Hadn't his father told him only the foolish were ever truly unafraid? That a little bit of fear is what kept one alive? His father had fears and losing Anduin was one of them.

He was Varian, father of Anduin, the last son of Stormwind. He'd ascended to his throne early because his father had died fighting the Horde. He remembered watching his father and uncle and their friend Khadgar ride out to battle. His father hadn't returned. His sister had died only a few years later. Then his mother had suddenly caught ill and died as well, leaving his uncle to preside over the last year of regency. His nation was in shambles. Wounded by war and death. And so he'd learned to become a warrior, had been trained by the best warriors in the Alliance, because so many had died and he was alone and had to become the protector his people needed. He was a widower thanks to the machinations of a cunning Black Dragon, the same creature who had nearly killed his only son. Together they were the last of their bloodline. The last family. His greatest fear was losing his son because it would mean he'd failed his kingdom, his family. Keeping him safe from outside factors was trouble enough, but the boy seemed to attract it to him. He'd nearly torn Pandaria apart with his own hands looking for him because it hadn't been that long since the boy had been kidnapped and nearly killed. And now his damn fool son was riding off to alternate realities, looking for trouble, because there was a black dragon in danger and his son wanted to do the right thing, but didn't understand his own importance and was full of the brash immortality of youth. He loved his son but it he was damn frustrating and had been testing boundaries, believing he knew better. He was Varian Wrynn and he was afraid for his son's life.

 

"Fuck."

Over on the other side of the bench, Tess made an interrogative noise. Valeera was also peering at him questioningly.

"I'm not wrong," Anduin said, sitting back on the bench, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But I'm not right either." It had been so freeing to sneak out, to follow Tess around, to go out on his own, to see the world and how it worked without the barriers of station distorting things. And it had been... nice to be untethered. He'd gotten a taste in Pandaria and Velen had given him a long leash while he'd studied on the Exodar but... he'd wanted more, hadn't he? and damn the feelings of anyone else. He'd loved finding his own space outside of his father's shadow. But it... it really hadn't been smart the way he'd done it, had it? He knew he'd manipulated Jaina into doing what he wanted. She could have teleported him away but they both knew he'd just have found a way back... or maybe wouldn't have consulted her next time.

Anduin sighed and let his head rock back against the stone wall and few times. His father had tried to send him to bed like a child. It was insulting. Varian had been perfectly fine to teach Tess, had expected her to know things but when it came to Anduin... he was dragging his feet just as Genn had. So he'd gone to Jaina like Tess had gone to Varian - sort of.

"I fucked up."

"Did you?" Valeera asked.

Anduin nodded. "I need to learn this... but I needed to have my father be involved. I needed to bring it up with him. Negotiate with him. It was the right thing to do but... I wanted to go. I didn't need to go." He clenched a fist and thumped the bench once. It was hard not to feel like he was accepting invisible chains. He'd snuck around like a thoughtless child, not like a mature adult. He took a breath and let it out in a rush, feeling tired, his bones aching.

"I made a mistake, but he has been too." And maybe Jaina had for not teleporting him to his room like an errant child and  _ then  _ forcing Varian to confront his son growing up. "I think I will need that backup. He and I need to talk about this." And then, once the dust had settled from that fight, Anduin  _ needed  _ Jaina and Varian to reconcile. Beyond his goals in the broader scope of Azeroth, they were family and they'd fought over him. Anduin got to his feet, straightened his tunic and marched off to battle.

Unseen by him, the two rogues looked at one another, shrugged, then silently followed in his wake.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many overdue conversations begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Wolf and Wild for the brainstorming and idea bouncing!  
> Thank you to WCH writer's chat for the whelp name.  
> Thank you Thesseli, Ryuujin, evilpinkpen, illidaddy1008, tty6 and FireGlory for leaving comments!
> 
> Sorry this has been so belated. Blizzcon happened and then I've been quite busy with RL things.

Anduin maintained his determined stride all the way to his father's office, yet paused just before he reached the door. He was at the edge, standing on the precipice of change, and somehow recognized the moment as pivotal. The conversation they would have, that they needed to have, would change things. So many things had already been changing but this felt different somehow. This wasn't the same sort of growth. Anduin wasn't certain what it was, but he felt something in his bones as he paused before his father's office door. Before he could think overmuch about it, Anduin walked in.

 

The office was empty.

 

Querying the unusually serious-looking guards led Anduin to the Keep's practice yard. Here Anduin paused once more. The remains of five training dummies lay on the ground. The guards had sensibly chosen to stay out of the line of fire, but Anduin could see they were eyeing one another and their King in equal measure, all unsure if they should intervene. Varian was in the midst of destroying a sixth training dummy. In the perhaps half hour since his fight with Jaina, he'd managed to work himself into a good sweat. Small curls of steam rose from him into the chilly afternoon air.

 

As Anduin stepped onto the training grounds, the guards at the edges backed off further, giving them space. Or retreating. Looking over his shoulder, Anduin realized that Tess and Valeera were several paces back. Anduin arched a brow at the two but only got small shrugs in return. They were closer than the guards at least and perhaps giving his father and him some space was the better thing to do anyway.

 

Varian shattered the wooden spine of the current training dummy and moved on to his seventh.

 

"Father," Anduin called. Varian ignored him and continued to strike and parry, the practice sword's blade flashing silver in the overcast afternoon sun. "Father, we should discuss this." Varian continued to go through his sword exercises, pieces of the practice dummy flying through the air as each blow landed. Anduin scowled. He was being deliberately ignored and it struck him as a childish act from his father. Sometimes it felt as if he had to be the adult. "We need to talk. Now."

 

Varian turned, surprising Anduin with his speed. The barely contained fury in his father's stormy eyes was focused on him and he suddenly felt very small.

 

"You have disappointed me by acting so irresponsibly and now you are making demands?" Varian asked as he crossed the distance to Anduin. He was still angry, but his words were clear and collected, icily calm. It was worse than the frothing, heated rage Anduin had expected.

 

"No," Anduin said, taking a half step back.

 

"Do you understand what your death would me to the Alliance? To Stormwind?" Varian demanded. "If you died on Draenor it would change everything about our goals there. Stormwind would be without an heir. The Nobles would offer up their daughters, girls as young as you are in many cases, as solutions to the problem." The naked disgust in Varians voice was clear. "Distant relations might suddenly find themselves with monetary support should they wish to press their claims to being my heir. Our people would face an uncertain future and their faith in the Kingdom and in me would falter. The rest of the Alliance would suffer from our lack of stability. It would be chaos. I am disappointed in your lack of judgement as much as I am disappointed in Jaina's."

 

"I know," Anduin broke in, scowling. "You said as much to her... And more."

 

His father's expression eased fractionally in surprise. "What?"

 

"I heard _everything_ ," Anduin told him. "You have no right to say the things you did because you are afraid."

 

"I am not-"

 

"You are," Anduin said. "Jaina pointed _that_ out as well before she left. You're afraid I might die. You're afraid of what might happen to our kingdom if that happened. Well I'm afraid of what will become of us if _you_ die, of what I will do." Anduin retorted.

 

"You cannot just rush into battle-"

 

"Like you do?" Anduin asked.

 

"When I march onto a battlefield I have an army," Varian snapped back.

 

_Except for the times he didn't_ , Anduin thought. Aloud he said, "I wasn't alone, Father. I recruited Aunt Jaina and Kalecgos to start with. Do you think so little of the Aspect of Magic and the Grand Magus of the Kirin Tor?"

 

"Things go wrong. Plans never survive," Varian retorted.

"We knew that. I knew that going in, and you are avoiding the issue. I am not a child anymore. I _need_ to know these things."

 

"You do not need to know-"

 

**_"I do_ **!" Anduin shouted, shocking Varian to silence as the his words echoed around the training yard. "I do," Anduin said more quietly. "Because our Kingdom and our allies have been at war almost constantly for most of my life. As much as I might wish it otherwise, it is likely I will have to see battle when I am King. I don't know I can lead from the front as you do, but I'm a decent healer and my shields are improving. That's something I can do."

 

"It is not Jaina's decision when you learn things," Varian said, returning to his previous argument, his voice lowered to a growl.

 

"Is it your place to decide when Tess learns things?" Anduin countered, annoyed his father was again sidestepping the real issue.

 

His father's gaze lifted over Anduin's shoulder, fixing on Tess Greymane.

 

"You were awfully angry when I was his age and didn't know things you expected me to know," Tess spoke up. Both she and Valeera stepped onto the training yard. They took up spots behind Anduin - enough to show support yet not within easy reach of an angry Varian.

 

Varian scowled. "Entering a battlefield as part of a covert operation to save a rogue dragon whelp was _not_ on the list of things _you_ should have known about at that age, Tess."

 

"I was fairly useless when the Forsaken invaded and when we evacuated," Tess replied, her voice hard. "When I got to Darnassus I decided to change that. Anduin's right. Ours isn't a very peaceful world. He should know something of how to act in a war. I didn't and I should have."

 

"As the sole prince of Stormwind he should know his place is to stay well away from the frontlines," Varian countered.

 

"Heirs don't always have that luxury," Tess countered, her eyes hard.

 

"And your brother died because of it," Varian replied.

 

"But he handled himself well in the fighting."

 

"He took the Banshee's arrow-"

 

"And that was _stupid_ ," Tess said, a surprising, heated anger underlay her words though they were softer.

 

"He took the the arrow meant for your father," Varian said. "He was brave and noble, acting on instinct to protect his family. Can you honestly say my son wouldn't be as self sacrificing?"

 

Anduin blinked. He'd... not considered that before. Not really.

 

"Genn still had you, Tess. Your kingdom was saved from further ruin because even if Liam is gone, _you_ are not." Varian's scowl deepened and something not unlike a growl rose in his chest. "And perhaps you should consider that before you go off as you do."

 

"You've been helping me learn. How is that any different from Jaina helping Anduin?" Tess asked, trying a slightly different tactic.

 

Varian considered her for a long time before he said, "Your mother knows about the training you have been doing. All the training."

 

Tess eyed him askance, apparently surprised, and maybe a little discomforted by the revelation.

 

Varian looked at Valeera. "Maybe we shouldn't have encouraged her."

 

Valeera snorted and rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. She was already headed down this path. The only thing we did was give her the appropriate guidance. Which is all Jaina and I were doing tonight."

 

"It wasn't _your_ place either, Valeera. You should have told me. You should have stopped him," Varian growled.

 

"He's not wrong, Varian. I had his back like I've had yours. Or are my skills suddenly unworthy?"

 

"You know that's not what I said _or_ what I meant," Varian countered.

 

The two began to bicker and Anduin closed his eyes, sighing. He looked over at Tess. She was frowning into the middle distance, deep in thought.

 

None of this was going anywhere. Anduin just wanted his father to apologize to Jaina and to put it all behind them. His father was frustrating but, Anduin had to admit, he wasn't entirely wrong. He wasn't entirely _right_ either. But... He did have a point. Anduin could have done better and ultimately how _he'd_ acted had caused this rift.

 

"I'm sorry," Anduin said into a brief pause between argued counterpoints. "I shouldn't have gone about things the way I did," Anduin continued, emboldened by the silence from his father. Varian scowled but some of the wind had been taken from his sails and for the moment he was silent.

 

Valeera, green eyes narrow, turned and slipped away without a sound, collecting Tess with a hand on the younger woman's elbow.

 

Stoically, Anduin waited for his father to reply. When he didn't he said, "I'm not sorry for wanting to learn to do more, but the way I went about it was... immature."

 

"I'm glad we're in agreement on the maturity of your actions," Varian said with some edge to his words. His sigh had a bit of growl to it yet the tension eased out of his shoulders marginally. "I suppose... You may have a point about learning for the good of the kingdom. But!" Varian held up a finger. "You aren't old enough to make those decisions for yourself and Jaina isn't in a position to do so either."

 

Anduin scowled. "I was going to go anyway," Anduin told his father. "She was enacting damage control as much as she was helping me."

 

"She could have stopped you."

 

_Not as well as you think,_ Anduin thought to himself. Aloud he said, "I was determined to go and she thought I would get into more trouble circumventing her."

 

"Anduin," Varian pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. "Even if she agreed, it isn't her place."

 

"You weren't doing it," Anduin said quietly. He'd not meant to say things in that way, but the words came out with curious relief. "She's been as much a mentor and teacher as Bolvar was and she cares just as much. You know that. What you said to her was shameful."

 

"I was angry!" Varian shouted, but the fury and rage had died down to something less intense. Anduin going hear the frustration, and the remorse, in his father's tone.

 

"I need to apologize to her, too," Anduin said. "This is my fault."

 

"It's partially mine," Varian admitted.  Another great sigh. "And I should apologize to Jaina. What I said was... unkind."

 

"It was _cruel_ ," Anduin corrected.

 

"It was cruel," Varian agreed. Setting his hands on his hips he stared into the middle distance in thought. At length he took a deep breath and let it rush out.

 

"You're growing up. You aren't much older than Tess was when Gilneas fell. I thought I was doing such a good job of making sure you had all the preparation I didn't have, that she didn't." He shook his head. "It's different when it's your own child. I think that's why Mia has allowed her to sit in on my meetings."

 

"Genn won't."

 

"Genn... Is complicated," Varian said, gesturing for Anduin to follow him off the training yard. "Aside from some... interesting ideas about what women should and shouldn't do-"

 

"Diplomatic," Anduin commented.

 

Varian smirked slightly as he continued. "Aside from that he's... dealing with the loss of his kingdom and his heir and a very different world than the one he knew before the wall went up."

 

"I get the distinct impression life was very different on the other side of the wall," Anduin observed as he held the door for his father.

 

"Now who's being polite," Varian joked. "That's probably part of it." He shook his head. "At least Mia's been able to push past what was lost to see what they have in the future. Genn'll come around. As for you... Anduin do you really understand why I was angry?"

 

Anduin sighed. "Yes."

 

Varian stopped and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's more than just Stormwind. It is just you and me. You're my son. You're the only family I have. It isn't something I can explain. I wouldn't have understood before you were born. But I-... I can't understand Genn's pain, but I can imagine it. One day you'll understand."

 

"You need to apologize to Jaina. Just because you don't think she can understand, doesn't mean what you said was any less wrong for a friend to say. And neither of us can understand what she's been through, Father. She left Theramore with the clothes on her back. I know she doesn't talk about it, but she lost all her notes, all her research, all her books, anything she might have been given as a gift, anything she might have received from Antonidas. And those are just the things. It doesn't even go into the _people_ she lost."

 

"It's easy to forget that," Varian admitted. "The Kirin Tor grabbed her before the dust settled and you know Jaina; she always looks like she's got everything under control." Varian squeezed his shoulder again. "I will apologize. If she even wants to see me again."

 

"Maybe not either of us immediately, but father, it's important we apologize sooner rather than later. It feels....wrong not to."

 

"Tell you what, we'll talk about it more over dinner and then tomorrow we can see if she's willing to look at either of us."

 

* * *

  


While Jaina was in the bath, Kalec had availed himself of one of the many wonders of Dalaran - delivery services. Bored apprentice mages looking to make some gold in their off-hours would, for a fee, obtain and deliver all manner of goods to one's door. He'd ordered meat from the butcher, vegetables from the grocer and a loaf of wonderfully warm, crusty bread from the baker. The stew was simmering and wouldn't need his attention for some time, so he went to check on Jaina.

 

She was dozing in the tub and started into wakefulness when he opened the door, making a sleepy sound of disoriented annoyance.

 

"You have time for a nap before the food is ready," Kalec told her. "The bed would probably be more comfortable."

 

Jaina nodded sleepy acknowledgement as she sat up. Kalec gave her hand as she stepped out of the tub, the water sluicing down her pale skin and generous curves. He wrapped her in a massive towel, and helped her dry off. She leaned against his chest and let him care for her. Kalec was uncertain if it was more exhaustion or feelings of hurt, but he was glad he was there to be comforting. She tilted her head up and gave him a soft kiss in thanks then went into the bedroom, using a spell to dry her hair. Jaina slipped into a soft nightgown and then flopped unceremoniously onto the bed, face first.

 

Kalec lifted her feet so they weren't hanging off, then tucked the down comforter around her. She hummed an appreciative sound and curled up into a ball of fluffy blankets and exhaustion. Kalec kissed her forehead and was rewarded with a sleepy smile.

 

Leaving her to nap, Kalec returned to the kitchen to check on dinner before heading to the lab with Jaina's shielding bracelet in hand. It was short but intense work to recharge it and he felt immensely better for having that done.

 

He returned the bracelet to her vanity then was left with nothing else pressing to do. Not wishing to wake her, he summoned one of the very comfy chairs from the library as well as a book and sat nearby. It was perhaps a bit foolish but he wished to be close in case she needed something.

 

The lights were off with only the illusion of a fire in the bedroom hearth's heating enchantment, but it was enough he could read by. He sat down, fully intending to read his novel but found he couldn't focus on the book in hand. Instead he kept going over the events of the day; the fight on Draenor, his conversation with Wrathion, and all Jaina had said when he'd found her in Kun-lai.

 

Jaina shifted on the bed, becoming a little less curled up and allowing him to see her face. She looked untroubled in her sleep. Jaina had lost much in her life. So had he. It was something else they shared.

 

Varian's attack had been unexpected. He wasn't entirely reasonable where Anduin was concerned but Kalec was surprised by what he'd said. He was also surprised the wound had cut so deeply and it appeared Jaina had been surprised as well. Which gave Kalecgos the sneaking suspicion that particular wound wasn't as healed as she'd thought it had been. That or everything in the last year had served to weaken the... wards around emotions and feelings Jaina kept under close guard.

 

He knew she resented Arthas's actions but had truly loved him at the time. She'd been wounded by his rejection but she'd also found some social freedom in the aftermath as well. Her feelings about it all were understandably complex. She'd never pursued other relationships until Kalec had come along. For this Kalec was selfishly grateful as he couldn't fathom not having her as his partner as they faced an uncertain, often uncaring world together. She was his joy and he hoped he was for her as well. She'd appeared to be content with him and his strange ways and misunderstandings.

 

And yet Varian's attack had drawn metaphorical blood.

 

Did Jaina, deep down, desire a family? Kalec could not give her one himself. The old regret took on a new edge of pain now they were a committed pair. But there were other options. They'd spoken of apprentices and while those people could become as close as family it wasn't quite the same as their own children - as Varian had reminded her so savagely. Kalec watched her sleep and wondered what she might say when he broached the subject.

 

He wondered how he felt.

 

The last whelps in the world were all placed with caregivers. Not just the blues, but all the flights. With a heavy heart he faced the truth that there were no more dragon children without families.

 

Well... there was one.

 

Kalec frowned to himself. Was that why he'd taken an interest in Wrathion, he wondered? He was a whelp in need of guidance - and probably a good whack upside the head - but he wasn't like the others. No, Kalec decided,  he was more like Tarecgosa or one of the apprentices in Dalaran. If anything he was an unruly student, though the whelp probably did need a proper parental figure in his life. That wasn't Kalec though. Jaina would never consider adopting Wrathion, anyway. Not that Wrathion would ever let a mere human fulfill a parental role- or possibly _anyone_ , Kalec thought with a snort of exasperation.

 

"Hmm?" Jaina stirred, rising up on one elbow out of the nest of blankets, blinking sleepily. Her hair was a mess and Kalecgos ached to groom it back for her.

 

"I had a thought. I didn't mean to wake you," Kalec said.

 

"Should probably get up soon anyway," She said, sitting up and yawning.

 

Kalec traded the book he was still holding for her brush and joined her on the bed. He began to brush her hair, careful to take it in small sections and not to pull or yank. Human hair had always been fascinating. Manes were rare among dragons who hadn't seen close to ten thousand years. She hummed a pleased noise as he took up the task. Humans did not mutually groom the same way dragons did, but she allowed him this, seemed to enjoy it, and it fulfilled his need.

 

"What were you thinking?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

 

Kalec paused as he thought about what to say. Finally he decided that attacking it head on was best. "I was thinking about what Varian said to you," he admitted.

 

"Oh?" She sounded more awake now and perhaps a bit wary.

 

He began a new section of her hair, pulling the brush gently through her long, snowy locks. "What he said was unkind. It was a low comment."

 

Jaina grunted agreement.

 

"But it made me think. Are children of your own something you want?"

 

Jaina turned to face him, hair slipping from his fingers, her lovely eyes wide though he could not say if it was in surprise or fear. Kalec felt like he had to explain himself.

 

"You were alone before, but you aren't now. I'm with you. I know I can't give them to you. Even without the Sorrow of the flights we're too different, but there are many orphans in the world. If you wished for your own, well, I know it's not typically done among humans but you could take on another mate for the purpose-" He stopped when her fingers, slightly trembling, touched his lips.

 

"This is something I made peace with long ago, Kalec" she said, a slight quaver in her voice to match the trembling in her hands. "I'm too old for a baby," she said with a bittersweet half-smile that didn't reach her eyes. She was fixated someplace on his shoulder. "I thought about adopting... Before. But I didn't. I was building a city and... It never felt right. After-... I thought about adopting some of the orphans from Theramore," she admitted. "But I think I knew I was... not right. Those children needed a real family, not- Not me. I saved them but I didn't- Kalec, I'm-" She closed her eyes in pain and Kalec gathered her close.

 

She shook with emotion again, her fingers wrapping into the fabric of his shirt. Kalec kissed the top of her head and slightly regretting asking. Only slightly. Varian's comment had uncovered something she'd buried, but her life was different now, she was different and despite her protests, she clearly had strong feelings about the subject. Better for them to air it out and discuss it rather than for him to inadvertently hold her back.

 

"No," she finally said, shaking her head. "No, I can't. There are healthier people who could take an orphan," she reasoned. "And I couldn't... I _couldn't_ sleep with someone else when I'm with you. Even for this. I- Perhaps this is very human of me, but no. I'm too old anyway, so it's a bit of a moot point. I-" she fell silent for a moment then looked up at him. "You've only asked about me and let me selfishly prattle on. What do you want?"

 

Kalec let out a huff of air. "That's what I was asking myself when you woke up. All the whelps in the world are already with caregivers if they aren't with relatives. All of them except for one, and he's... troublesome."

 

" _Wrathion_?" Jaina asked, aghast.

 

Kalec chuckled and tucked the sun-gold lock of hair behind her ear. "Perhaps it's unkind but I don't want to adopt a whelp _that_ badly. I want what you want, beloved. I can bring nothing to you in this except my love and support for whatever you wish." He leaned his forehead against hers. "I've also had some time to make my peace with how my life has gone."

 

"It still hurts, though, doesn't it." It wasn't a question.

 

"Sometimes," he agreed.

 

She leaned against his shoulder, picking at the laces of his tunic, brow slightly furrowed as she thought about what she wanted and what she thought she could have. Kalec kissed her forehead in a silent apology for dredging this up again. It was trauma shared though, and they would survive together.

 

"No," she said again, her voice soft. Kalec could hear the regret, the mourning, for what she felt she could not have. "I'm too old. Unfit. I have Dalaran to run. Theramore to rebuild. I have so much to do to make Azeroth a place where we don't have war orphans anymore. No, it wouldn't be fair to a child. Maybe someday I'll have an apprentice again... I think I'd like that."

 

She sounded like she was convincing herself. Kalec kissed her temple. "Okay." He kissed her again. "You can always change your mind, you know," he said, leaving the door open to her in the future.

 

Jaina shook her head. "It's okay Kalec. I chose you and I have no regrets for my choice. Having you by my side is what I want." She might have had other regrets, but he was not one.

 

He nodded, accepting her wishes. She might change her mind. She might not. Whatever the future held, they'd be together which is what mattered most to him. He nuzzled her temple.

 

"I fixed your shield bracelet."

 

She smiled and stroked the side of his face. "Thank you for protecting me." She tapped his nose very lightly. "You should think about something for yourself."

 

"I'm not the one getting into unexpected combat on a regular basis," he reminded her.

 

She rolled her eyes, gave him a look and tapped his nose again. "My point stands," she said as she began to slide off the bed. "Unexpected combat is just that," she said primly as she pulled her nightgown off.

 

Kalec watched the flickering light of the bedroom hearth's fire illusion play across her skin. She looked over her shoulder then and tossed the garment at his head. Grinning, he pulled the nightgown off his head so he could continue to enjoy the view. Smirking at him she dressed, taking her time, before finally pulling on a pair of slippers.

 

"If you're done ogling-"

 

"Never," he interrupted.

 

"- I think I'd like some dinner," she continued.

 

He stood and offered her an arm down to dinner.

 

* * *

 

Wrathion was not a happy dragon. His payment for the whole Garrosh fiasco had been stolen by the bronzes, he was in traction, most of his core group of Talons were dead, the rest of his Talons were severely injured and he was in the clutches of the Red Flight. About the only positives were that he was alive and not about to be sacrificed.

 

They'd given him _medicine_. The potions had been tested by Right and while they were foul tasting, they wouldn't kill Wrathion - only make him wish he was dead for a few minutes. They helped to calm the aches and pains of bruising and healing bones, but also left him feeling fuzzy-headed. He was in too much discomfort to sleep for long and too drugged up to plan. His existence has been reduced to an uncomfortable, hazy state of simply being.

 

"Hello!"

 

Wrathion roused from a light doze. The reddish, undulating blob in front of him resolved into a small flock of red whelps. The smallest among them, a dark red male with stubby black horns, was apparently the spokesdrake. Wrathion, the eloquent and learned dragon he was, met this unexpected greeting with the poise expected of a prince.

 

"Ewah?"

 

"Hello!" the whelp said again, his stubby tail wagging a bit. "I'm Artristraz. These are my clutchmates," he said, rattling off a few names but Wrathion had already stopped listening.

 

"And?" Wrathion asked, wondering what the point of this was and what the red whelp wanted.

 

"And?" Artistraz asked, tilting his head.

 

Makers, the whelp was dense too! The universe hated him, Wrathion thought. "And... what... do... you.. want?" he said, speaking very slowly.

 

"I... Wanted... To... Meet... You..." Artistrasz replied. "Why... Are... We... Speaking... Slowly?"

 

Wrathion rolled his eyes and managed to make a small shooing motion with a forepaw. "Begone, pest."

 

"Maybe right now wasn't a good idea, Artistrasz," a larger male whelp said.

 

"Yeah, he looks pretty hurt. He probably wants to sleep," a coppery female added.

 

Well at least one of these whelps wasn't entirely idiotic. Still, Wrathion didn't wish to be disturbed.

 

"Anyway, you're one of us," Artistrasz said, nodding back at the other whelps.

 

"I doubt that," Wrathion said, shoving as much disdain and derision as he could into the words.

 

Another of the whelps giggled at him. The culprit was a female a more purple shade of red. He scowled at her. She laughed behind her paws.

 

"Rheastrasza was our mother," Artistrasz said, drawing Wrathion's attention sharply. "We were five. Then our mother and one of our siblings died to Deathwing's flame."

 

"But you're here," the quiet, coppery female said.

 

_So?_ Wrathion thought to himself.

 

"If everything had worked out like she wanted, you'd have been hatched here with us," the other sister said.

 

"You shouldn't have been left alone," the larger whelp said with a smoky huff. "That was wrong."

 

"Mother helped make you and she died to protect your egg," Artistrasz said. "So you're one of us."

 

_What_? "That makes no sense," Wrathion said.

 

The giggly female rolled her eyes. "Of course it does. Where else were you supposed to go? What did you think was supposed to happen to you?"

 

_I'd become the enslaved puppet of a hypocritical queen?_ Wrathion thought to himself. Yet the way she said it gave him pause. He scowled at her while he thought. The reds he'd met prior were rude, suspicious, unkind dragons. Not that he'd cared. No, this was clearly some sort of ploy.

 

The large whelp leaned into Wrathion's face. "We've adopted you. Deal with it." Then he turned, launched himself into the air and flew away.

 

Blinking, Wrathion watched him go. He jerked in place when the coppery female leaned in and gave him a nuzzle he somehow knew was meant for family.

 

"Feel better, okay?" Then she turned and left, following the path of her brother.

 

"What?" Wrathion asked, entirely uncertain what exactly was going on.

 

"You should meet father before you go," the maroon sister said seriously. "I think it'd help him." She smiled, waved and then hopped into the air and was gone.

 

_Huh?_

 

"You can't be serious," Wrathion said.

 

"Why not?"

 

"I'm- I'm not even remotely related to you!" Wrathion snapped.

 

Artistrasz's shoulders, both of them, rose and fell in a shrug. "So?"

 

"Just go away," Wrathion growled.

 

"Can I bring you anything? Water? A snack?"

 

"The stolen artifact the Bronzes took from me," Wrathion muttered.

 

"Sorry, I'm pretty sure I can't do that."

 

"Then what good are you? Leave," Wrathion said, shooing the other whelp away again. He turned his head, making his dismissal clear.

 

"Sure. For now. Cya later!"

 

Wrathion heard him flap away. He was fairly certain he hadn't just hallucinated the whole absurd meeting. What was the angle here? What did they want? Revenge? He heard a rustle and growled.

 

"I told you to go away!" he snapped.

 

"I believe you have mistaken me for someone else," Alexstrasza said.

 

Wrathion's head whipped around painfully. He sneered at her. "The sentiment is still the same."

 

She inclined her head but took a seat. "In a moment, but first we need to talk."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrathion has a couple very enlightening conversations. Jaina gets a letter from Stormwind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you WolfandWild for the late-night babbling!
> 
> Thank you Ryuujin, TheObsidianWarlock, Thesseli, Skooma, illidaddy1008 for leaving lovely comments!

_"I told you to go away!" he snapped._

_"I believe you have mistaken me for someone else," Alexstrasza said._

_Wrathion's head whipped around painfully. He sneered at her. "The sentiment is still the same."_

_She inclined her head but took a seat. "In a moment, but first we need to talk."_

 

"I think not," Wrathion said. He sniffed and turned his head away from Alexstrasza again.

"Then I shall talk and you may listen, or not, as you like." She paused a moment. "First, I should apologize-"

Wrathion snorted and rolled his eyes.

"- for many things," she continued after only a slight pause. "I will not apologize for your life though.  I should have been paying closer attention to what Rhea was doing. Deathwing was a threat, but it blinded me to other things I should have been observing more closely, and one of those things was her. And you."

Wrathion didn't deign to say anything. Perhaps if he was silent, she would get frustrated and leave.

"Your egg was supposed to have come here, to be cared for. That was Rhea's plan at least. But her plan, like so many, did not work out."

Wrathion sneered silently. Was that a dig at his own efforts?

Alexstrasza continued. "When word came of what she'd done to secure your future it was... a shock. We looked for you, but you had already hatched. We... received your message. There were some who wished for us to scour the whole of the area and kill you. They saw it as more of the corruption that plagued your predecessors. I chose to let you remain free as you wished to be. How that was handled is a mistake on my part. We should have come openly and invited you to come back with us."

"And be your slave?" Wrathion snarled in spite of himself.

"No. To grow up with the rest of the whelps your age. To help keep you safe - something which we'd not done well up to do to that point."

Wrathion finally turned to look at her. "And what makes you think you'd have been successful?" he sneered. "As you pointed out, you were _utter failures_ before. Protection is not what the _Reds_ were for! That was the job of the Black flight!" _A job while falls solely on to me!_ he thought. Aloud he said instead, "A job which I have done far more successfully than you! You have stepped beyond your domain, Alexstrasza, as you Reds always do."

"We did what needed to be done to keep our Charge intact, Wrathion. We are healers. Sometimes that means cutting out the disease and cauterizing the wound," Alexstrasza replied, her voice even. "You should not have had to do what you did alone."

"I am the only one who could have done what I did. I am the only one with the _right_ to do what I did." Wrathion hissed. "You are a power-seeking hypocrite."

"Am I?"

"You gave testimony at Hellscream's trial about the forced breeding you endured. How is that in any way different from what Rhea did to Nyxondra?" Wrathion snapped.

Alexstrasza's eyes closed in a wince of pain as the words struck home. "I should have stopped Rhea before it got to that point but, as I said, I was distracted. Nyxondra might have been a willing conspirator in Rhea's plan before but by the end... I do not think she could have been. She was too deep into their whispers."

Wrathion paused. Consenting?

"They were friends once a very, very long time ago," Alexstrasza said, a fat tear, surely false, tracking down her cheek. "Some dragons resisted the whispers as you know. Rhea tried to help her but they were not successful and so Nyxondra withdrew. When Deathwing rose, Rhea made contact once more and I authorized her experiments. There was a point at which she should have stopped. She did not, and for that I am truly sorry I was not there to stop her myself."

Wrathion bared his teeth. "Lies."

Alexstrasza shook her head. She withdrew a leather bound volume and held it up. "She was meticulous in her notes and sent copies home periodically. These were sent out with your egg and recovered later." She set the volume down near him. "They describe, in detail, what she did. Replicating such research has since been banned, though some might wish to examine it further." She nodded at the book. "That is yours."

"You are giving me banned research," Wrathion questioned, sneering. What was her game?

"You, of all dragons on Azeroth, are entitled to read what she did."

"You've read it."

Alexstrasza nodded. "I needed to know if it would help our current problem."

Wrathion snorted. "And if it had been helpful in whatever problem you have now, you wouldn't have banned it."

"I thought about it," Alexstrasza said. "We-" she stopped, looked up and tilted her head. "You... do not know," she said with infuriating pity.

"Know what?" Wrathion hissed back, willing to play whatever mind game she was playing for the moment.

"Since the Hour of Twilight and Deathwing's defeat, all dragons are barren," Alexstrasza admitted sorrowfully, hear head bowing slightly. "I am sorry to be the one to tell you-"

"You _failed_ ," Wrathion hissed at her in disgusted fury. "Your domain was Life and _you failed your Charge!_ "

Alexstrasza's head snapped up, her fiery eyes blazing. " **_I have not failed her yet,_ ** " she snarled.

Wrathion could hear the fierce determination in her voice and feel her power in his bones. Her resolution vibrated in harmony with something deep within his soul, resonating like the plucked strings of a harp. He knew she spoke the absolute truth of her heart.

The harmonic recognition was fleeting as all at once cascading knowledge began to flash through his mind; Alexstrasza's incomparably vast age, the depth of the power she had once controlled as Aspect of Life, the purpose of the Dragons as guardians of Azeroth _(there was something more there)_ , that she had been a _mortal champion_ before there were such things, chosen for her role and that she had paid for it in blood countless times over, that she she felt the pain of lost brothers keenly for the five had been bound together in a complex web of power, friendship and family, that the flights _should_ have had assistance from the Keepers but they were _derelict in their duties_.

_What does the Charge mean to you?_ (Why did he remember Kalecgos now?)

**_My blessing upon you will seem humble compared to those which have been bestowed upon the others: the managing of time, of life, of dreams and magic. I offer you the earth.._ ** _._

Wrathion shook with the memory of Khaz'goroth's blessing, stronger than he had ever heard it, each word falling like an anvil strike on his soul.

Information about the Pantheon, their directives and methods, dashed through his thoughts. The depth was too vast and so only _impressions_ of knowing were deposited with disjointed scraps of actual knowledge. He was left with the afterimages of terrible beauty and compelling grotesqueries as a scream tried to claw its way out of a throat too disconnected from reality to work.

As he was losing his mind, something warm interposed itself, slowing the racing memories that were not his, dulling them to something more distant. Something he could withstand.

_What does the charge mean to you?_ Kalecgos's words slid through his mind once more and this time he clung to them like a rock in a raging river, letting those words guide his attention within the flood of thoughts and images. Wrathion had known it was the protection of the world. Did the Blue intend to imply that by "Azeroth" he was supposed to protect the creatures on it rather than the world, but that didn't seem right. _Why didn't it seem right?_

The world stilled, the whirlwind of information cleared as if he'd entered the eye of a hurricane. Protected by the soft yet somehow strong powers of the Red Flight, he could hear the Earth call to him as if a drumbeat- no- as a heartbeat... And in that moment of clarity, Wrathion _understood_.

Their world was an _unhatched titan whelp_.

Shivering in sudden cold, he could not stop a whimper. Kind hands wrapped him in warm blankets and a low, rumbling purring sound chased away the last of the maddening overload. He realized he was flopped against Alexstrasza's chest and shoulder. She smelled of nests (how did he know that?) and safety, and though a distant part of him was furious, he was simply too exhausted to do much more than put up a pathetic, kittenish resistance.

"You have access to deep memories, little one." His forehead was kissed and he hated how nice it felt. "They can come unexpectedly."

_What? She knew? Had this been an attack on his person?_ He struggled against her further but found his oddly exhausted body could do little more than wiggle a bit.

"No, I did not cause them on purpose," Alexstrasza said as if reading his thoughts. "They are something which happened to some dragons in the very earliest of generations including us. The Mantles granted we five even more information, but also better ways to handle what we suddenly knew. It is an... intense experience even for us. I wondered if you had such troubles given what I read in Rhea's notes." She sighed out, long and sad.

"The five of us could sometimes accidentally trigger information surges like you just experienced. It has something to do with the Titan's magic. Enough must linger in me to cause this in you. I'd forgotten how much it hurts to be near when it happens. It hasn't happened near me since... some millennia before the War."

Gentle fingers massaged the spot between his horns that hurt the most and he loathed them even as they helped calm the headache.

"You are not going mad, though it does feel like it when you're caught in a tempest. We are organic life and prone to... chaos. The Titans are beings of order. When those forces meet there is conflict."

Alexstrasza continued to massage his aching head, the healing balm of her power spreading deep into his skull. The rumbling purr continued and Wrathion realized it was her, the noise something he'd known but forgotten - or perhaps these were more false memories. "You are something new but very much like something old, Wrathion. You know more than most whelps your age, did you know that? If you had been titan-crafted twenty five thousand years ago, you'd have been among peers going through the same growing pains."

_Titan-crafted? There was a term for what he was? His world was a Titan..._ His surprise came out with a small inquisitive growl.

"Rhea did something very close to what was done long ago, but her process was a bit more chaotic. I am sorry you're hurting. I will do what I can to ease the pain."

The gentle fingers spread soothing calm, dulling the pain and clearing his mind.

He wanted to rant at her, rail and insult her, but what came out instead was, "Azeroth is an unhatched Titan."

"She is." He could hear the smile in Alexstrasza's voice. "It is why we are here and why we were given our charges."

_To protect_ her _dreams,_ her _magic,_ her _existence... Mantles of god-like power granted to protect something rare and precious..._

"Why is this hidden?" He grumbled. It was stupid.

"It is hard to corrupt the soul of a world if you do not know it exists. She slumbers deeply and it is better for her to be that way. She is safer there," Alexstrasza said, surprising Wrathion with her forthrightness. Unless this too was a lie or obfuscation, but somehow it felt correct.

He growled. "Why did Kalecgos play word games about what the Charge meant? He should have just come out and said it."

Alexstrasza hummed thoughtfully. "The Charge is more than just the soul of the world. It is how you relate to your duties. How you carry them out. It is a personal contemplation of scope and action. Most dragons do not know the nature of Azeroth, but that does not make their actions or the reasons why they do their actions any less valid. It is all in service of the same goal in the end."

"How so?"

"She is the soul of the physical world, but that world is part of her and so are we."

The corruption of Azeroth by the Old Gods, he realized, wasn't just the physical world but the _beings_ as well. Another kiss was placed on his head and he grumbled, annoyed by the presumption.

"Sleep. And when you wake you can think on it. We can talk about it, or not, as you like. You are nearly healed and you are, of course, free to leave if you choose. But you are welcome to stay and welcome to return if you do choose to go abroad again."

Wrathion scowled but the heavy, warm magic descended on him, gently sending him off to sleep.

* * *

Wrathion woke to soft snoring and muted thumps. He opened one bleary eye and saw he'd been moved to a new cave. Right was sleeping in a pile of furs on a cot. Left was maintaining a new rifle at a dwarf-sized workbench. Flickering firelight helped a few enchanted crystals illuminate the area. His wing had been taken out of the stretched splint, closed, then bound against his body. The foreleg splint had been changed for something less all encompassing. He couldn't bend the elbow or wrist but he had that shoulder back. He was also, he realized, sleeping in a pile of whelps.

Looking around he recognized the group of reds who had so audaciously decided he was now adopted. The snoring whelp was the giggly maroon one. She'd unceremoniously draped over her larger brother and smaller sister, belly up, limbs splayed every which way. It couldn't possibly have been comfortable, except she was deeply asleep.

He caught Left's eye and she looked over towards the firelight. It was a forge and the muted thumps were strikes of a heavy hammer against glowing hot metal. Some magic was at work to mute the typical sound. Probably because of the sleeping whelps.

The person behind the forge was a dragon with massive, thick black horns which curled like a ram's. He wore the shape of a Dark Iron with a neat top-knot and a full, red beard which appeared to smoulder. He was shaping a block of metal into the shape of a dagger, each strike carefully placed, though he was working quickly. Or it seemed quick to Wrathion. No doubt this dragon had been practicing smithing for thousands of years.

The dragon noticed him but finished what he was doing. He then held the still glowing blade up to Left who scrutinized it then nodded once. The dragon plunged the knife into a bucket which created a muted hiss of steam, then he set the blade down on a table with another muted thunk.

He wiped his hands on the cloth at his workbelt as he stepped closer to Wrathion, one eye narrowed as he peered at him.

"Ye got yer mother's snout. An her eyes," the dragon decided before picking up another bar of steel.

Wrathion was left speechless by these statements. The dragon walked back to his table and began to sketch on the metal bar with a heavy pencil of some sort. Intrigued, Wrathion extricated himself from the sleeping dragons. Left got up and shuffled over, she picked him up with as much dignity as either of them had to spare, being as injured as they both were, and set Wrathion down on an area of the workbench the older dragon had begun to clear as soon as they'd started to come over.

Wrathion saw there was a half dozen partially made daggers and a shorter boot knife already forged and ready for further refinement and polish. The dragon put his next piece of metal into the forge and on this side of whatever enchantment he was running, the flames roared when he opened the door.

"Who am I addressing?" Wrathion asked over the flames.

"Voloristrasz," the other dragon said. "I make things." He gestured towards the rest of the cavern and Wrathion was startled to see all he'd missed from his previous vantage point.

Hung on the walls were swords, halberds, polearms and shields fit for beings as small as gnomes up to elves, humans and things larger than tauren. He realized the largest items were for the Red flight dragonkin. There was armor and barding to fit all manner of being but what drew Wrathion's eye was the armoring for a full-sized dragon. The battle barding was hung on the wall, the component pieces broken down for storage. In the center was an exquisitely crafted helm sized to fit an adult. Dragons did not go in much for armor since they had relatively little need of it against anything... except another dragon.

"You're a smith. I didn't think the reds would have such a position," Wrathion said, frowning. That seemed more like something _his_ flight would have done. They were the earth dragons after all. Here again was the Red flight taking something that should by rights have belonged to him?

The older dragon snorted an amused laugh rather than the expected affront. He began to beat the heated bar with rhythmic strikes of the hammer. "The flights all have their affinities, lad, but that didn't define everything about us. Your flight had their own healers. The Reds had their own mages. And I liked making things with metal and fire."

He paused to turn the metal this way and that and then plunged the cooling steel back into the fires. "Healers came here. Mages went to the Nexus. I liked working with metal so I went to learn with the blacks. That's how I met your mother.."

"You knew my mother?" Wrathion asked, the snide remark he'd had prepared dying in place of this new question.

"Aye, lad." The dragon said with a nod. "She was a fine hand with metal work. Made some of the most intricate designs. Had an eye for gems and a knack for finding them."

"She was a jeweler?"

"An more. Made things for the Blues their artisans needed to do spellwork. Intricate toys and puzzles for the whelps, instruments and such for the alchemists. All that and pretty baubles besides." He pulled the hot metal out of the flames and resumed shaping it.

His mother had once been an artisan. That had never occured to Wrathion before. Most of the black dragons he'd heard of had been fearsome warriors and cunning spies - or infamous terrors. They were the martial flight. They were the protectors!

True, Korialstrasz had been a mage and Afrastrasz had led warriors during the Cataclysm, but surely that had been the Red flight stepping out of their bounds again! Hadn't it?

Kairozdormu had crafted his device, though...

At length Voloristrasz spoke again, seemingly unaware of the thoughts Wrathion was having. "Nyxie was a little bit older than I, so they had her help teach me." The words seemed to be drawn out from him like the metal he was working. It was slow but steady, both unused to yielding but doing so under force. "Rhea," the name was said with such layered emotion that Wrathion's stomach twisted, "liked to study things."

The forging continued for some time before the metal was put back into the furnace. The dwarf-shaped dragon drew a breath and let it out. "I knew they'd get on well when I first introduced them. And they did. They became the very best of friends."

"Rhea," her name once again carried the complex layering of emotion and hit with the same force, "Was my first in love. When we got together I asked Nyxondra to make me the first nesting gift for her. When... When she became my prime, I asked her to make that gift as well. An' for that I didn't want another set 'o bands or pretty things. I had her craft the finest tools and instruments for the mortal forms she liked to take. Others thought I was a bit mad, but Nyxie knew her best friend."

Left had set her rifle aside and was sitting near her prince now. Wrathion shuffled closer and lifted his head so he might show some propriety in this surprisingly difficult conversation.

"What happened?" Wrathion asked.

The other dragon's strike landed and stayed there for a moment before he set the hammer and the cooling metal aside.

"They were attacked from the inside." Voloristrasz's burning eyes peered out at him from under heavy brows, fixing Wrathion in place. There was not the expected hatred, which left him confused, but instead there was a sense of time... of long, long ago pain. And... it wasn't pity but perhaps something else... Wrathion finally decided the other dragon was hopeful, somehow.

"Ye probably heard a lot 'o things about what happened. I can only tell ye how I experienced it, so that's what I can do."

The burning eyes closed when Wrathion nodded, unsure what else he might say or do.

"It began with Neltharion being more aloof - even to his own flight. Nyxie was mildly concerned about her father, but she wasn't one of his favorites and he'd always been moody. Nyxondra had always been independant and a great contrarian. " A ghost of a smile across his features. "I've heard you're a chip off the same stone in that regard."

"I am not!" Wrathion snarled, affronted this dragon would tell him what he was like - and then winced as he exhibited some of that behavior.

The other dragon waved the argument aside and continued without further comment on Wrathion's nature. "She'd become distant. We didn't think much of it at the time. She had another flock of little 'uns around then and it wasn't uncommon for her to focus on them for a decade or so. Then the Legion came."

Wrathion had read a few first-hand account of the Legion's arrival and the War of the Ancients, but he'd never heard a first-hand account from a veteran of the war. He listened but then checked himself, not wishing to appear too eager for the story. They were coming and this could prove to be vital information.

"We all rose to fight them. I had made little armor by then - we only needed so much to fight off rogue spirits and elementals. But the Legion could hurt us, so I was needed. I learned quickly and forged what I could in the time we had. Weapons and barding. They were given to the warriors of the Red flight but mostly to the warriors of the Black flight, because Neltharion had decreed that every black dragon should be trained in combat even if they had another vocation. And we honored the sacrifice of their time and effort by supporting them. They were our finest protectors and greatest champions." His palm struck the tabletop with his words, emphasizing their importance, but Wrathion could hear, he could almost _feel_ , the genuine love and pain. And, he realized, his own dread as he knew what came next.

Voloristrasz's head bowed. Two of his children perched on the table to either side of him. The others sat with Wrathion, Pressing close to him and Left and the now awake Right. And, for once, Wrathion did not wish for them to go away.

"The moment your grandfather became Deathwing, his whole flight went mad. I watched it ripple through them like a stone in the water. They were beyond reason. My brothers died trying to talk sense into their friends. Rhea was on the edge of what became the battlefield, she said they were as confused as the rest initially but then they turned on the other flights as well." His hands balled into fists. "Some few broke free and fled. I don't know if they fought through the whispers or if they were shocked enough by their own brutality. Most stayed."

He looked up at Wrathion. "When yer Aspect calls, it is a hard thing to resist. They're the living soul o' the flight. They embody our Charges, our power and purpose. Deathwing _Called_ them, and only the very youngest avoided being part of the fight and only because they couldn't fly that far." The hands shook and there was a tremor in his voice, and it was from fury. " **_Children_ **. He even called the whelps."

His daughter, the quiet one, hopped to her father's shoulder and pressed herself against his neck, crooning. The older red calmed. Wrathion was shaking, though he wasn't certain why. The dragons nearest to him were also shivering as well, and he felt better that he wasn't the only one.

"After it was over, some were... mad. Broken. Others were tortured by the whispers, and by what they had done, but they weren't as badly off as others and still retained something of their original selves. Nyxondra was in the latter group. Her children had tried to answer the call of their Aspect, but they hadn't been able to leave home. They could hear the Old Gods. When she got back to her home, the whispers told her to kill them, or to release them to fight, among other things. She resisted and instead she contacted Rhea and I, begging for healing and help."

"We went, because she was sick and she was still our friend. Because we're Reds and we're supposed to _heal_. We had no idea what we could do, but we had to try. Nothing worked. The attacks on her mind grew stronger the more we did. Rhea tried for years to help find a cure. Nyx would contact her then fade away when the whispers got too strong."

Wrathion gulped as he sensed something horrible coming. Was this where he came into the picture? Was this what the red was building towards?

"Then one time after Rhea had made a breakthrough, Nyx dropped all contact. She'd never done that before. We went to her home." His closed fist hit the table once then again.

"Her brood had been driven to rip one another apart. The survivors, the victors, had turned on her when she came back to her nest. They were dead when we got there. We don't know if they died of their injuries or if she'd killed them. Two-year old whelps can't hurt an adult dragon. She blamed us and attacked. We fled."

"Nyx had moments of lucidity here and there. She didn't always blame us. Sometimes she blamed herself. Sometimes she blamed the Old Gods. Rhea never really gave up her research. Her inability to help was something that plagued her for thousands of years. The cave we found... It haunted us both."

He cleared his throat and patted the back of the whelp sitting at his elbow. "When Deathwing rose again, Nyxondra reached out to Rhea in a lucid moment and they made a plan. That's how your mother was trapped - she went willingly initially. It was a final, contrary "fuck you" to the whispers that had ruined her life and killed so many dragons she loved. After that..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

"What my mate did wasn't what she should have done. Keeping a brooding mother like that isn't right. Rhea was obsessed with finding a cure. I don't think any of us realized how obsessed she'd become. I didn't realize it until she'd traded our daughter's egg for yours." Rage burned in his eyes, but it was just as twisted with love and pain and loss as his voice was.

"It wasn't supposed to go this way. Ye were supposed to come here and be in that pit with all our other eggs," he said, pointing to a sandy corner of the cavern that looked like it would be a good nesting spot (how did he know these things?).

"Nyxondra was my mentor and my friend. I loved her like one of my sisters. I'm no black dragon, but I could share her legacy with ye when she couldn't. I knew what they could do and I could help _save that_ from oblivion and ruin. I could help ye find your birthright and use it to fight the things that took the rest of yer family. So that's what I'm offering."

He snorted, the sound entirely alien to the form he wore. "Yer your own dragon, Wrathion. I won't force anything on ye and I won't meddle in yer plans. But I am going to finish arming yer guards before ye go," he said, jerking a chin at the partially completed weapons. "And I'm offering what I know. The kids have decided to adopt you, but I don't get th ' sense you'd care for me trying to be parental, so I won't force that on ye, lad. But I'm an ally in yer corner, and I'm here to help."

* * *

 

She was flying. The world beneath her, the air around her, was strange. It took her a moment to understand why; there was hardly any magic. The land far below looked normal but the leylines felt like dry riverbeds. A column of people and pack animals followed a dirt road, a banner of blue and a banner of red, side by side at the head of the line.

There were others in the sky with her, but they were not the same sort of being as she was. They weren't dragons or mounted beasts, but something else. Friendly. Allies.

Ahead was a stormwall, thick and foreboding. Lightning tinged with the colors of magic crackled through the clouds. She flew in sunlight but under the storm, the clouds were so thick, the land could not be seen. Magic rushed along the leylines under the cloud like a flash flood, returning magic to the land. She could feel it along her scales and her companions in flight whickered in delight as they raced to embrace the storm. Jaina followed.

Far below, the column had halted and the wagons were circling. She and the others in the sky flew into the heart of the storm.

"Jaina?"

Jaina woke, blinking in the low light of the bedroom. A quick glance at the clock showed she'd slept in, but she'd fought a warlock the day before and it was the weekend in Dalaran anyway - she could indulge a little, couldn't she? It had absolutely nothing to do with her lingering hurt from the fight with Varian.

She could smell a late breakfast being cooked and her stomach rumbled. Kalec, who'd brought the delicious smells with him, stood at the door.

Jaina sat up in bed and rubbed her face. The nightgown she'd been wearing fell off a shoulder. "Kalec? Did something happen?

"No." He smiled, leaned down to kiss her upturned lips and sat on the bed beside her. "A note came from Stormwind. From Anduin," Kalec explained, setting the sealed letter on the bedspread.

"Oh." Jaina looked at the sealed letter and though she'd just woken up, she felt exhausted.

"Breakfast is just about done if you'd like some," Kalec said. "Or I could bring it to you here?"

"I should get up anyway. I'll be down in a minute," Jaina said, covering a yawn with a hand.

He nodded and left to attend to breakfast. Jaina looked at the letter, wondering, and dreading, what it might contain. She broke the seal and a second letter fell out of the first, this one bearing Varian's seal. Jaina groaned and felt her exhaustion deepen. She glanced back at her nice, warm bed and briefly thought about just going back to sleep. Sighing, she opened the parchment and read what the son had to say first.

It was a series of apologies first. Anduin apologized for his own behavior, immaturity and putting her in the position she had been placed in. It was remarkably mature sentiment. Then it became an apology for hiding Varian's message in his own and a plea to read it. Finally there was a plea to mend fences with Varian for the sake of their friendship and the future plans she and Anduin had been making.

Jaina set the letter down with another sigh. She rose and dressed, then took both letters with her down to the kitchen. Kalec smiled from his pan of scrambled eggs. She leaned up to kiss him as she passed by on the way to the table where thick slices of bacon and her preferred tea awaited her.

Kalec spoiled her, but she was terribly grateful for his care and consideration.

"Want to talk about what Anduin had to say?" he asked.

"It was an apology, mostly. There was another letter from Varian inside Anduin's." She set both down on the table and snapped off a piece of bacon.

"What'd Varian have to say?"

Jaina finished chewing and gave him another kiss. "Thank you for breakfast and making me tea."

"Was Varian's letter that bad?" Kalec asked, turning from the stove to put a hand on her waist.

Jaina leaned against his chest. "No. I haven't read it yet."

"Still angry?" Kalec moved the pan off the heat then hugged her. Jaina wound her arms around his waist.

"No," she said after a moment of reflection. "Not angry. Hurt he'd strike so hard. Not... exactly surprised. I'm not angry I'm just sad I think." She sighed out long. "And so, very, very tired of fighting."

Kalec murmured a soothing sound and stroked through her hair. "What can I do to help?"

"You're doing it," she said, smiling up at him. "Thank you for being here. Listening. I should speak with Yu-len so you don't get all of it."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I like you can share with me. I like I can help in some way. We agreed to help one another."

"We did." She tightened her arms around him. "Love you." She leaned up for another kiss then let go so he could finish cooking. She returned to the table and took her seat. The tea mug warmed her fingers.

Jaina nudged the scroll with a finger. It rolled away then back. "I don't want this to be the end of our friendship. I don't think I would be, but there is this small voice in the back of my head."

Kalec set a plate down for each of them. He tilted her chin up with gentle fingers and kissed her. "I don't know him as well as you do, but I don't think he was thinking clearly."

"But that's what he thinks and it just," she waved a hand, "came out unguarded. What else might he think I am unqualified for?"

Kalec made a soft, chastising sound as he sat across from her.

Jaina rolled her eyes. "I know. I'm being unreasonable."

"You've been hurt by a friend and this is something that still hurts from greater betrayals," Kalec gently corrected. He pointed at the sealed letter with his fork. "He sent a note so he still wants to talk. That's a good sign. He probably wants to apologize too."

Jaina sighed and broke off another piece of bacon. She chewed it in thoughtful silence while Kalec began to eat his breakfast.

"He wasn't entirely wrong," Jaina finally said. "I could have stopped Anduin from going or convinced him to stay in the garrison with the healers. Anduin said he still thinks learning how to handle himself in combat isn't wrong, but he went about it the wrong way. It was a moment I could have taught him and I didn't."

"Neither did Varian.. I could have said something, too. Or Valeera," Kalec pointed out.

Jaina nodded. It was true. She opened the letter quickly and read it. Kalec ate silently while she did so.

 

_Jaina,_

_I apologize for what I said. It was unbecoming of a king and it was entirely unworthy of a friend. I am not always rational when Anduin is concerned, but I should not take that out on you._

 

_I know you care for him and I did not mean to imply you do not. I am grateful to you for all the teaching and mentoring you have done with him over the years. More than that, I am grateful for all the support and protections you have also given when I haven't been able to be there._

_There are aspects of his education I have fallen short on, this I admit. I disagree with Anduin's actions and I disagree with yours, but I am complicit in the circumstances that led us here and the reasons behind what you both did I can understand._

_Please forgive my cruel words spoken in a heated moment. I have precious few true friends in this world and I don't want to lose you as one._

_Anduin and I would like to see you when you can stand to be in the same room with me again. Here in Stormwind or in Dalaran as you prefer._

_-Varian_

 

"It's a very Varian letter, I suppose," Jaina remarked as she set the paper down and picked up her tea again. Once again she felt tired.

"Oh?"

"He apologized as well. He still thinks Anduin and I are wrong in how we acted but he said he understands why. He wants to talk." She sipped her tea. "He wants to keep me as a friend," she said, mostly to herself, as she thought about what Varian had said.

"That's good isn't it?" Kalec asked, eyes bright and hopeful.

His smile was infectious. Jaina nodded agreement. It was good Varian wanted to mend fences and wasn't going back to brooding over his hurts and insults. And, perhaps, it was good for her she didn't want to hang on to her anger.

"It is. I'll write back after breakfast," she decided. She took Kalec's hand and squeezed it before turning her attention to her food. The anger didn't have a hold on her, but it still might take some time for the sadness to completely go away.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaina goes to Ashran to follow up on the aftermath of the Highmaul raid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left me a comment on the previous chapter: jep0723, tty6, TheObsidianWarlock, Gasel , illidaddy1008, Thesseli, and Ryuujin!
> 
> Just the epilogue left on this fic!

The meeting with Varian and Anduin had been awkward. Varian was his typical stiff self. Anduin was trying to get everyone to get along and Jaina... well she had to admit she'd been guarded as well. But aside from the stiff awkwardness the conversation had been good. They hadn't come out of it worse off at least. She'd scheduled that meeting to be short in case. They had all agreed mistakes had been made and apologies were exchanged. Varian had been less awkward and formal when he'd apologized for what he'd said to her specifically. She could see he was remorseful and guilty but a small part of her didn't want to alleviate him of his guilt - not when she'd had to compensate for his angry outbursts. She'd acknowledged his apology and had been tempted not to overtly accept it, but in the end, she was too damn tired of fighting her friends.

The meeting hadn't been bad, but Jaina had been grateful it was short. Jaina did have to continue on to Draenor so she'd given Anduin a hug, had accepted Varian's handclasp and had left. Their friendship wasn't permanently damaged but it would take some time and probably a few more awkward meetings.

 

* * *

 

Ashran was a strange place, Jaina thought as she walked along the road to the center of the island. The magic under the land as was not right. It was lacking something for all it was the familiar taste of arcane and fire. The odd ebb and flow under Ashran only highlit how much Draenor was not Azeroth. Perhaps the difference was because this world was in a different timeline, or perhaps it was because Draenor didn't have a soul. Or maybe it was just because Draenor wasn't the world of her birth. She wondered if the Draenei mages, the ones who had walked on many different worlds, would have insight into the differences between them. The taller of their guides gestured to one of the broken walls along the road, drawing Jaina from her musing.

 

Jaina, Modera and Khadgar followed behind a dwarf working for the Explorer's League and, most unusually, a towering, bespectacled tauren. Jaina wasn't certain if he was a member of the Reliquary, someone independant, or if he was somehow part of the League. He was known to the Alliance camp in Ashran at least. The young adult was also very eager to share what they'd been learning of the island's history.

 

"As you can see the Ashmaul Ogre's presence on Ashran was well established at one time. We estimate their loss of complete control began some time before the Draenei landed on Draenor. We have found faint evidence of some cataclysmic event which caused the island to be abandoned for some time before minor efforts to retake the area were made by numerous-"

 

The tauren continued to give them a verbal history of Ashran as they walked. Jaina wasn't certain if he was covering for nerves or if he was like that all the time. The dwarf beside him seemed amused so perhaps he was just given to rambling history lessons whenever the opportunity presented itself. The running commentary made for a pleasant stroll down the "Road of Glory" at least.

 

They arrived in an area that had once been an outdoor throne room. Archeologists were still working on the edges of the area. Their impromptu tour guide hurried off to speak with them, his words indistinct but enthusiastic as he greeted a tall human man in their number. Jaina recognized Harrison Jones when he turned. The famed archeologist grinned at the young bull and clasped arms. Jones and Cymre Brightblade, who stood beside him, were both now frequent visitors in Dalaran.

 

The Reliquary and the Explorer's League both had a presence in the city once more and, according to Ansirem, had been intermingling more often than before. It was nice to see the two organizations working together and in concert rather than in opposition. That cooperation was, in point of fact, one reason why they were meeting here rather than at the Violet Bluff.

 

Jaina smiled to herself as she watched the archeologists converse. Some were more at ease with the mixed company than others. There were looks askance from a couple dwarves and some blood elves, but the tauren youth was working closely with the Dark Iron and Jones was going over some parchment with Brightblade. Actually, Jones seemed to be flirting with her as much as getting work done. Jaina hoped he wouldn't cause an incident but then Brightblade rolled her eyes and sighed in a familiar and resigned way. Jaina judged they would be just fine and turned back to the reason she was here on Draenor.

 

A large table had been set up for the meeting between the Horde, Alliance and Kirin Tor. Illsudira Spellsong greeted them with a smile and a nod, the light wind ruffling her short blonde hair. She'd set up a map over the table using a detailed spell lattice. Highmaul was marked with the banners of the Horde and Alliance showing its status as a victory. The powerful stones of the Highmaul Imperator had not been enough to save him from Cho'gall. They hadn't been able to save Cho'gall from the combined might of the Horde and Alliance, either. What remained of the stones, and they had been largely destroyed, had been sent to the Violet Hold. Grand Magister Rommath had lodged complaints with Lor'themar and Vol'jin according to Modera's sources, but the Kirin Tor had not heard anything officially.

 

Today wasn't about Highmaul though. Today was about the next steps on Draenor.

 

"Before everyone else gets here, what do you think, Illsudira?" Modera asked.

 

The elf tucked a short lock of pale hair back with one hand, blue eyes focused on the map as she considered the question. "We'll all need a little more time to tend to the wounded and replenish stocks while we move into better positions." She looked up at the other mages. "The bluff is ready to serve as a supply depot. Our security is the best it has ever been," she said, steel in her voice and eyes. She and the Kirin Tor's defenders had taken the initial breach as a personal offense and while the perpetrators were dead, they had taken extreme precautions since then to avoid another incident.

 

"How does the Cenarion circle feel about the Everbloom?" Jaina asked. "Any concerns about them? Trouble with the local groups?"

 

Illsudira's smile was warm. "No trouble. The opposite, actually. There's been some polite interest among the locals. They don't have druids here so there's been a lot of talk between them and the shamen. The Everbloom in particular is interesting to the druids and they've been invaluable in helping us keep our security as high as it is. The draenei here have only just begun to see the beginnings of shamanism in the last generation or so. The Earthen Ring and the Cenarion Circle have both requested buildings as sort of embassies."

 

"Oh?" Jaina asked, arching a brow.

 

Spellsong nodded. "I got both of their requests in the aftermath of the battle in Highmaul and have provisionally granted the requests."

 

Jaina nodded along with Modera and Khadgar.

 

"An excellent idea!" Khadgar said, grinning. "Having multiple types of practitioners can only make us more secure against the unruly natural forces here."

 

Modera shared a look with Jaina, as shrewd as Khadgar's was elated. "Gives us a chance to have better ties with their organizations on Azeroth as well."

 

"And it will help smooth things over when the faction armies are in one another's pockets as we get the next wave of materials shipments in," Illsudira said.  She set both hands on the table and looked at her peers. "Blackrock is going to be a more protracted engagement. We hit Highmaul by surprise and took them out from the top. Here we're going to have a harder time breaking down the door and we're going to have to unravel their complex as we go. This is the beating heart of their operations and by now they know we're coming."

 

Khadgar sobered. "And... There is the added trouble of Gul'dan and the Shadow Council."

 

"What _are_ they up to?" Modera asked. "We know they stole that obnoxious black whelp, but Jaina shut that plan down." Modera shot her a fierce grin. "So, what do we know now?"

 

"Nothing new on that front," Illsudira said. "It's a pity Wrathion's out of the picture. We didn't get much intelligence from him, but his people were doing a decent job of keeping them busy. With that pressure gone?" She shrugged. "We can count on Gul'dan being up to something, but we don't know the shape of what that action might be as of yet. They may even seek to ally themselves with the Iron Horde. We took out their Highmaul Allies so they may be willing to deal with the warlocks."

 

"Even though they were using them to power the portal?" Jaina asked.

 

Spellsong shrugged. "The Iron Horde has been weakened and the Shadow Council is opportunistic."

 

"They could see it as an opportunity to take over. Garrosh is dead and he was probably the leading voice against making pacts with demons," Modera said.

 

"I've been watching them closely, Modera," Khadgar said. "So far no contact has been made, but Cordana and I are well aware of the potential for history to repeat itself," Khadgar said gravely.

 

Modera nodded, expression grim.

 

"Should we request more scouts?" Jaina asked. "The Kirin Tor isn't really set up for this sort of work."

 

"At the moment I think I have things under control," Illsurida answered. "Between the two garrisons I'm certain I can convince a few champions from either side to lend a hand." She nodded at Khadgar. "He's already been working closely with the commanders."

 

Illsudira continued to give the other council members her short report ahead of the greater meeting. Soon though, marching drew the attention of the mages and Illsudira wrapped up her report.

 

The representatives of the orc clans who were not part of the Iron Horde arrived first, with a female in Frostwolf garb at their head. Tall with bright amber eyes and long, dark hair, she took in the assembled mages as she ascended the stairs. Jaina realized with some surprise that this was Draka. She'd known Draka had been the Frostwolf leader who'd interfaced the most with the Kirin Tor, but to see her in person still struck Jaina. Here was the mother Thrall had never known. She wondered if it was as strange for them as it must be for him.

 

Jaina shoved the thought aside. Thrall was not worthy of her time and attention, and certainly not in this moment. Jaina made sure her expression was professionally impassive, but Draka's eyes lingered on her for a moment as she approached. Jaina wondered if she'd betrayed some of her inner thoughts or if her reputation had preceded her to the orc clans... And if it had, what sort of reputation did she have?

 

The Draenei arrived on the heels of the orcs, led by the young paladin, Yrel. The woman smiled broadly at her allies as she climbed the steps at the head of her party. She welcomed both Draka and Khadgar with firm handclasps.

 

Then the Horde and Alliance groups arrived. Archmage Zaliya and the Horde commander, Teraka, coming to a stop at the steps and giving one another bare nods before they ascended together.  Zaliya caught Jaina's eye and shared a razor thin smile as she joined the others at the table.

 

"Welcome, everyone," Khadgar greeted, visibly pleased by the gathering. While Jaina was still finding tentative hope, the elder mage's enthusiasm was contagious. She subtly rolled some tension out of her shoulders as Spellsong took over and the meeting began.

 

* * *

 

 

The meeting was kept on track by Spellsong, Zaliya and Teraka. All three were approaching their next task in the ongoing campaign with brutal efficiency and were equally unwelcoming to any grandstanding or useless sniping along faction lines. Jaina had little to say and so was content to watch the interplay of politics before her as they led the discussion of the next steps in the joint war against the Iron Horde.

 

When they broke for lunch, Jaina found a shady seat slightly away from everyone else. In a way it reminded her of when she'd taken her meals alone during Garrosh's trial. But this time she was not on the brink making terrible mistakes, wallowing in her self pity and hatred. She just needed a moment to collect her thoughts and, perhaps, to observe.

 

While the Horde and Alliance largely sat with their own, the Draenor delegations easily mingled with one another and made attempts to converse with the others.

 

Jaina was initially surprised. Yet with a moment's thought it was obvious why they could do this so easily and Jaina felt a tiny bit of shame for her surprise. These people were not burdened with the same history as the people from Azeroth. While Iron Horde orcs had recently subjugated the draenei here, that hadn't been the work of these orcs clans, and Yrel and her companions were well aware of that distinction.

 

"May I sit here?" Draka asked.

 

Jaina blinked, broken out of her musing, by the request. She'd not heard Draka approach. Jaina nodded once and the orc woman sat on the stone beside her, wooden plate laden with a bit of everything. Draka poked at the gelatin dish with suspended fruit the human cook in the Alliance camp in Ashran had insisted on bringing to the shared luncheon.

 

"This is such a strange substance. Tasty but strange. My husband does not trust the way it wobbles," she said to Jaina as she tapped it with the back of her spoon. "Which just leaves more for me, I suppose" she said, grinning.

 

Jaina found herself smiling slightly. There was something fierce about this woman she couldn't help but immediately like, something about her that reminded her of Modera or perhaps Varian. It wasn't like Thrall, who was far more stoic. Would he have been more like this had he not lived the life he had? But then the same could have been said for all of them.

 

"If I may be so bold," Draka said, "If there are any are doubts about my people, please let me assure you of our commitment to bringing down the Iron Horde."

 

"Have I given the impression I questioned your commitment?" Jaina asked, concerned. She mentally reviewed her actions over the course of the meeting but nothing stuck out to her.

 

"Not exactly. You have been a quiet observer and unfailingly polite as diplomacy demands. But I know the humans of your world have not had a good history with the orcs and their allies. I know you have not had a kind history." She jerked a chin at the Horde sitting together. "They have a great many things to say. The Kirin Tor have other things to say. _Everyone_ has many things to say about the great leaders of Azeroth, but as with all things, the truth isn't the rumors people repeat. And so I shall ask directly, because my people do not have the time or the luxury to deal with rumor and prejudice."

 

Jaina's lips quirked. Very much like Modera and Varian.

 

"I'm sorry if I gave that impression. This is Illsudira's command and I don't wish to intrude on her plans. I may lead the Council but it is very much a team effort and it would be rude of me to impose myself in her place," Jaina explained. Draka nodded acceptance of that fact.

 

"But as to your very valid point, that is something I _knew_ but didn't _feel_ . Not even after fighting here. Not until today. _You,"_ Jaina nodded in the general direction of the Dreanor groups, _"_ don't know _us_ and while you may look like some of the people we do know, like some of the people we have history with, _you_ are not _them_." Jaina drew in a breath and sighed it out. "And that is both refreshing and confusing to rectify. The baggage the forces from Azeroth bring to this war shouldn't adversely affect you or the draenei here, but I am sorry to say I'm sure some of it has been dragged along."

 

"I am told I am dead in your timeline. There is an orc who would have been my son had our timeline been yours. Is your 'baggage' related to him when you see me?"

 

Jaina looked at her, weighing her answers and then nodded. "He was once an ally and he abandoned our shared goals. He put Garrosh in charge of the Horde on Azeroth and did _nothing_ when the new Warchief began his reign of terror. Among Garrosh's crimes in my world was the total obliteration of nearly everyone who lived in a place called Theramore and every ally who had gathered to help us repel the impending attack from his forces. They were gone in an instant. The whole city was reduced to rubble and almost every living thing there was turned into ash." Jaina touched her hair, distantly amazed her voice had been so steady. "I did not perish only because the previous leader of the Kirin Tor traded his life for mine."

 

Draka's amber eyes closed in sympathy. "I had heard small parts of this story. Garrosh had much to answer for. It is good he is now dead."

 

"Yes," Jaina said, the myriad emotions she felt colliding together and with her will to maintain control.

 

Draka looked at her steadily, head tilted slightly, her silence inviting further commentary.

 

Jaina willed the hand clenching her fork and plate to ease. She took a breath in then let it out. Garrosh was dead. He was no longer alive to kill more of the people she loved. Jaina was here, on this world, to stop more killing. Draka had remained silent and had indeed continued to eat, politely ignoring Jaina's need for a moment to herself. It was that politeness and perhaps the understanding that prompted Jaina to speak further.

 

"Garrosh's dream was to see the world subjugated. Crushed under him. To see his people rise above them all in glorious warfare and conquest," Jaina said. "What he did to your world, he wished to do to mine. To do _worse_." She knew her smile was not pleasant. Her voice was low and rough and the metal utensil was once again biting into her clenched hand.

 

"I am going to destroy that dream. Even if he is dead, I am going to rip it apart. Obliterate his war machine. And when I am done his name will only be associated with pity and derision." And no one else she loved would be killed by war. "As long as your people are willing to help me dismantle his Iron Horde, they will be very welcome by the Kirin Tor, baggage be damned."

 

Draka's slow spreading smile was equally sharp, equally predatory.

* * *

 

 

Jaina returned to Azeroth and Dalaran in the early evening. The temperature had risen enough they were not getter rain instead of snow, even here in Northrend. It was refreshing after the balmy heat of Ashran. Jaina closed her eyes and took a moment to reach out, feeling the familiar warding of Dalaran and the leylines far below on the ground. Even the ambient magic in the air felt better, more substantial, here.

 

She took her time walking through the streets on the way home, letting the air clear her head. Kalec had a late class with some of the older students anyway and so there wasn't a huge reason for her to rush home.

 

Today had been a strange day of small but important revelations and greater bridge building. It was also wonderful to feel entirely confident in the whole Council as a team of leaders. She smile a little as she had the thought and recalled what she'd said to Draka. It hadn't started out that way but now it was and it was nice not to be the center of every decision and have the whole of the city's troubles on her shoulders. It had taken a lot of time and effort but the result was worth it. It wasn't as close and it had been in Theramore - not yet and perhaps it never would be - but it was nice.

 

Jaina's feet took her towards the classrooms in the Violet Citadel. She found where Kalec was lecturing and slipped into the back of the room, unnoticed. She dismissed her staff into its pocket dimension and took a seat, content to listen to her beloved lecture.

 

Some of the students were surprised to see her in the back of the room when they were dismissed. Jaina smiled politely and waited for Kalec to be finished speaking with a few of the younger students who'd gone to the front of the room. The obvious interest in him as a handsome male was clear on the faces of some of them. Jaina hid a smile behind a hand as she watched Kalec obliviously answer their questions with honest interest and care for the subject.

 

Jaina thought back to their conversation days ago. Kalec would have been a good father. He was a very good teacher and these students and the whelps in Azsuna were lucky to have him. An apprentice might be nice again. Not yet though. Jaina knew she wasn't quite ready. She wasn't entirely done mourning for Kinndy for one thing. For another, she wanted her free time to be spent with Kalec - learning who they were together. Maybe in a year or two she'd be ready. She had enjoyed teaching Kinndy far more than she had expected. Seeing Kalec had spied her lurking in the back and was politely trying to leave, Jaina rose and made her way down to him.

 

Kalec met her halfway with a bright smile. He pulled her close with an arm around her waist and kissed her quickly in greeting. "Hi."

 

"Hi. Having fun?"

 

He grinned. "Yes but I'm not the one with homework," he said to the groans of the retreating students. Jaina laughed.

 

"You caught on to that tradition quickly."

 

"Modera is an excellent teacher," Kalec said seriously but his eyes sparkled with wicked humor.

 

Jaina chuckled. "That she is."

 

He leaned in close. "How was your meeting with Anduin and Varian?"

 

"It was okay," she said. "I'll be okay," Jaina murmured, taking his hand and squeezing it. Kalec returned the squeeze.

 

"I wasn't sure when you'd get back but we could get some dinner out? Karlain mentioned there's a new pandaren place that gets excellent beer and does fall off the bone short ribs. Sound like a nice evening out?"

 

"Sounds wonderful," she agreed with a heartfelt sigh. They left, hand in hand.

 


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrathion takes stock of his situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for coming along with me on this one! 
> 
> Special thanks to Jess and Wolfandwild who let me throw ideas at them on this fic.
> 
> Thank you so very very much for the comments on the last chapter Thesseli ,cristinaafaye, illidaddy1008, Ryuujin, jep0723, catalyswitch, allie and tty6!
> 
> I will be posting the first chapter of the next fic shortly!

Wrathion surveyed the ongoing work as he ate and pondered his next moves.

 

His Talons had secured a small farmstead on the border of Westfall and Duskwood some time ago and the place had been brought up to working standards. The main house had once been a modest manor. Wrathion would have preferred something more grand, but what the house lacked in grandeur it made up for in other ways. It wasn't especially close to any of the nearby rivers and the land that surrounded it was marginal as farmland. There was an old mine on the property, long overrun with Kobolds. Wrathion had throughs of clearing them out once he was a bit bigger, but for now, they could remain. 

 

The, house, grounds and small kitchen garden outside was maintained by the flint-eyed dwarf couple he'd recruited before his journey to Pandaria. The two dwarf women had rebuilt things at a steady pace but the affair in Draenor had called for rapid completion of the extended plans. They were nearly complete and with the Talons coming in from all parts of Azeroth and beyond, they had extra hands to finish the work. With the Caretakers, Wrathion had had no complaints - though the same could not be said of his current state of affairs otherwise.

 

His Talons had been savaged by Draenor. The operation there, though he still thought it had been a good investment, had cost him in blood. Both hunters who'd been separated had managed to return after making their way to Lunarfall. They'd remained with Neseema as she recovered. The Talons who'd remained on Azeroth had closed ranks, falling back to this manor once Wrathion had returned - even those of races normally allied with the Horde. 

 

Proudhoof, her fur still short and regrowing from where she'd been healed, sat quietly with Neseema by the massive fireplace in the greatroom. The stool was a bit small for the Tauren, but she did not complain as she and Neseema sorted through the stock of healing herbs. He knew there were a handful of trolls, tauren and orcs outside or in the woods nearby, hunting and gathering or patrolling the manor's borders.

 

Neseema was pale, thin and still recovering, but there was a burning fire in her eyes. Her left horn had been sheared off cleanly close enough to the base the blood vessel had been opened wide. She'd been swiftly cared for but now looked oddly lopsided. Wrathion would see she got a proper replacement. Voloristrasz was ready to create something the moment she was ready and Wrathion was considering his suggestion to seek out one of Kalecgos's artisans for the mage who'd served him so well.

 

Adele Westen, his newest recruit, had been to Stormwind to gather supplies and was out tending to her horse. Evie and Brigette Wildwind, the dwarf couple, were seeing everyone was fed and warm with such brisk efficiency that Wrathion wondered for a moment if they weren't red dragons. They'd hardly blinked when actual reds had shown up on their doorstep and had put them to work as well.

 

His two most trusted guards, His Right and Left talons, were tending to their new weapons on the other half of the big table he was seated at for lunch. They were practically cooing over their new toys as if they were kittens and not finely crafted weapons of war. The maker of those weapons was working a newly built forge in the courtyard just outside the great room's massive windows. 

 

From his seat, Wrathion could see and hear Voloristrasz hard at work on still more weapons. Some would be used to outfit the rest of the Talons but others would be sent out to be sold for gold to finance the operation. Wrathion could pull gemstones and precious metals from the earth itself, indeed he'd been practicing this under the strange guidance of both the elder red and the equally keen dwarf Flintrock, but raw materials weren't worth as much as finished products.

 

His meal finished, Wrathion rose to return outside. Aside from the forge area, there was a newly constructed training field, the beginnings of some extended barracks, some temporary yurts in the pandaren style, and a long set of tables where the rest of the Talons were taking their own luncheon. Grey and Flintrock were seated at the table on the end. Their reunion had been one filled with both tears and cursing. Grey had lost an ear, but thanks to the healing of the reds, his limp would be mostly temporary. As Wrathion wandered into the courtyard, they nodded with respect and began to stand, but he waved them back to their meals and the other Talons followed suit.

 

His Talons had been recalled from everywhere and while they were perhaps fifty strong it was a bitter realization to think his total numbers had been halved by Draenor. But there had been other additions and he would no doubt be able to gain more assets.

 

Itolla, the tauren Ebon Blade had departed Frostfire and returned to him here, as had Calaena the night elf of the same order. The undead pair of knights had intended on remaining but Wrathion thought perhaps he might send them back to the garrisons to continue to feed him valuable information. The handful pandren he'd recruited were doing an excellent job of helping his Caretakers keep everyone fed and were doing a remarkable job of keeping tensions and tempers even this close to Stormwind. The small pack of grummles were quiet content to fetch, carry, haul and even build so long as they got a steady supply of shinies and a place to store their yaks.

 

Interspersed among the Talons were flashes of red. The whelps who had decided to adopt him had followed him when he left -- as had their father.  Wrathion wasn't certain what to make of these dragons just yet. They weren't hurting his operation and they seemed keen to help, but he wasn't certain how best to deploy these unexpected resources. It was strange to have helpful dragons around and he supposed he had Kalecgos to thank for introducing him to the concept.

 

He'd also finally learned the red whelps' names and something about them. They were going to be assets then he needed to know who they were and what they could do, the same as any other Talon.

 

Artistrasz, the eldest and the most vocal, was the smaller male. He was possessed of almost eye-searingly bright scales of the most basic red imaginable. He'd been following Wrathion around, trying on a variety of mortal shapes as he did so, and had been good about passing along orders and asking actually intelligent questions - though Wrathion wouldn't have admitted it. Currently he was perched on the table with the rest of the talons, a piece of venison in his claws as he listened to the adults talk.

 

Vamastrasza, the quiet coppery female, had chosen to be a dwarf as her preferred mortal form, though not a dark iron as her father preferred. She was apprenticed to the elder dragon and was helping him at the forge. She was earnest in her support but she continued to be quietly in the background and preferred to be left alone to work on her craft.

 

Namistrasza, the giggly maroon one, didn't have a specific vocation, but Wrathion had noticed she soaked up information like a sponge and was exceptionally well read. She was already blazing through the small library the manor held and, annoyingly, would query Wrathion about the things he knew. It was mildly annoying, except Wrathion found he was learning too, so he permitted it. She too was still trying to decide on a mortal form she liked. She perched on a stool beside Flintrock and Grey and Wrathion wondered what sorts of underhanded things she was learning from those two and how he might make use of whatever she did learn.

 

Rustrastrasz, the younger brother, was the largest of the whelps and built like he was going to be a massive powerhouse when he was older. Wrathion had entertained the possibility of having a warrior red the size of Kalecgos on his side in time, but alas, Rustrastraz was a dedicated  _ pacifist _ . Wrathion's lips curled in a sneer as he thought the word. He was, no doubt, going to get along just fine with a certain human prince. The whelp's saving grace was that he was training to become a healer and Wrathion's current healers, all three of them who were left, were exceptionally pleased to have him among their number. His preferred mortal form was that of a deep, russet tauren, not quite grown and still mostly gangly limbs. He was currently working to weed out the healing herbs in the garden.

 

The midday sun grew suddenly bright and Wrathion scowled, thinking that perhaps someone's shield had caught the light. The light dimmed but the source was not a reflection, but a point magically suspended in the air.

 

The ringing of Voloristrasz's hammer stopped. The whelps and Talons fell silent. The whisper and clank of weapons being drawn and readied filled the air. The soft susurration of sand grew louder as the light brightened.

 

The shimmering, golden light solidified into a portal and a pandaren-shaped dragon stepped out into the courtyard. Her fur was reddish-gold and her eyes bright green. Great curling horns poked through her hair. She looked around, searching, then grinned when she saw Wrathion. Waving the portal closed behind her she approached him, holding Kairozdormu's artifact in hand.

 

"Hello! I'm Jiandormi and I am here to help you use this to save your flight!" She smiled cheerfully.

 

The protestations that had formed on Wrathion's lips died instantly.

 

"Hmph," Voloristrasz remarked, sounding somehow pleased, "If you'll forgive the pun, it's about damn time."


End file.
